


hey, wanna do a collab?

by CountessCzan



Series: Youtubers AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Youtubers, M/M, Permanently Discontinued, The Author Apologizes, Vloggers, akaashi is just intrigued and curious because BOKUTO, akaashi likes music, basically i realized i really don't like this but a lot of people apparently do so i'm keeping it up, bokuto and kuroo are bros as ever, bokuto lieeeks akaashi, kenma runs a gaming channel with kuroo and bokuto, oikawa is a love guru and a model, so does kei, they're all youtubers, youtube au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountessCzan/pseuds/CountessCzan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What greeted him was an utterly gorgeous profile picture, and a promotion video featuring that utterly gorgeous man on its center. Bokuto’s eyes were drawn to the heavy dark curls that framed Akaashi Keiji’s sharply angled face. If Bokuto was a poet, he would have stated that Akaashi’s eyes were eloquent and ardent, and yet languid in the way that it bored into the very depths of his being. He would have stated that Akaashi’s half smile was enchanting and provocative, revealing the illustrious promises of enchantment and carrying the air of a sylph. He would have stated that in one glance, in one minute of staring at this person, Akaashi Keiji’s entire self is diffused with a mysterious charm that screamed of temptation.</p><p>Unfortunately, Bokuto wasn’t a poet, so all he thought was <em>Fuck, he's hot.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “my youtube commenters are not-so-subtly shipping me with you, another youtuber, and now I’m binge watching all your videos and crap now I have a crush” + “your ~~dating~~ youtube profile is the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen, I don’t want to ~~pick you up~~ do a collab with you I just need to know how on earth you can fit twenty-four marshmallows in your mouth”
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!!
> 
> A/N: So. Youtube AU. I have no idea how this is going to turn out. Do enjoy and leave a comment or two, thanks.

Bokuto Koutaro lived to make videos.  
  
Well, that is perhaps an exaggeration. There was volleyball, of course, the sport that he lived and breathed ever since he was a child up until he’s now in university, and potentially on track for the national team. There was his family, his little sister who hoots far better than he can and his mother who had the greatest patience in the world and his father who laughs merrily with crinkling eyes. There’s food, the absolute heaven that is food. And maybe Kuroo, his best bro ever, and Kenma and Hinata and Sawamura and Konoha and the rest of his team. (Even Oikawa, that lousy bathroom-hogger.)  
  
So yeah, it was an exaggeration that Bokuto lived to make videos. He lived for other things (see above) but videos, oh damn, videos have been his life for one and a half years now. He loved recording clips of him talking or doing funny shits with his housemates, with Kuroo and him pranking Oikawa “the love guru” Tooru and Sawamura “I have a stick up my butt and I’m not afraid to use it” Daichi. He loved the process of editing and adding effects to his videos, or just mucking it up and uploading it. Most of all, he loved the positivity that comes with the comments that his fans post on his new videos. Bokuto Koutaro is a very simple man, and receiving a simple “Wow, great video!” is enough to make him happy.  
  
Of course, being a simpleton like him (at the very least, Bokuto understood that he is a simpleton) also means that he is easily affected by the vicious words that are not filtered through the internet. It had been a great deal for him when he came out of his figurative closet, and whilst majority of his fans were accepting and supportive, some even downright thrilled, there were still the occasional insults and snide comments that left him discouraged and faintly depressed. Being a vlogger is tough in some aspects, too, particularly when people with no disregard for his privacy approach him. Bokuto is fairly alright with the public, but he’s no better than Oikawa, who lives for popularity, or Kuroo, who handles everything with a smirk.  
  
Being a somewhat famous vlogger, Bokuto Koutaro isn’t exempted from the claws and clutches from his fanatical domain that show itself in one particular form: ships.  
  
_“Bokuto-san, nice video! Aaah, we get to see little Fuku-chan, too! Your love for owls certainly rival Akaashi-san’s own collection!”_  
  
_“OMg so?? adoRABLE??? LIKe?? AUGH BOKUTO U R so IMPORtAnTTTT”_  
  
_“LMAO Pause 3:19, Bokuto looks like the world has betrayed him LMAO. Side cameo Kuroo looks like a french baker with that baguette in his hand lol”_  
  
_“Your shirt came from HighShop, and it’s blue. Akaashi Keiji’s most recent video had him wearing that same shirt in the same shade of blue. Coincidence? HELL TO THE NO.”_  
  
_“okay but guys am i th eonly one who thinks bokuto should do a collab with akaashi keiji?? i mean look they both love owls, they both play volleyball, plus they’re hella hot lol”_  
  
_“ik what you mean lol they’re shippable too? Hm bokushi? Nah sounds like Akashi Seijuro with his bokushi-oreshi thing. Akato? Lol weird. Akaboku? Bokuaka?”_  
  
_“FUKU-CHAN YOU ADORABLE BARN OWL YOU ARE VERY CUTE!!”_  
  
_“Hi! Are you ready to make some real money? Are you sick and tired of all the videos you’ve seen, promising you piles of riches and gold? Well there’s no need for that anymore! Click on the link...”_  
  
_“Bokuto Koutarou, you never fail to make my day brighter. Thank you for this lovely video.”_  
  
_“Lol get rekt Kuroo.”_  
  
_“is that Oikawa streaking in a split second 4:26”_  
  
Case in point, shipping. At first it started subtle, but gradually Bokuto realized that even his twitter and tumblr was being invaded by his fans (it still felt weird thinking about that, Bokuto would prefer to call them his internet friends) shouting at him in capslock to just go on a date with Akaashi Keiji.  
  
It’s all well and good in the first days, even when he was shipped with his housemates, which was extremely weird. But now, when Bokuto so much as smiles or talks about someone who’s vaguely popular, his fans immediately cling onto the idea of shipping him with that someone.  
  
This time, it seemed, that the current trending partner for him is someone named Akaashi Keiji, who apparently has a fascination with owls like him, and who plays volleyball like he does. Admittedly, Bokuto has never watched any of this Akaashi’s videos, mostly because from what he’d gathered, Akaashi Keiji’s videos focuses on music, bands, photography and the occasional psychological advice. Bokuto’s videos centers on.. Funny shits and his troubles for the day, what happened to him, what his experiences are, and a side gaming channel with Kenma and Kuroo. So it was really weird that fans would ship him with a vlogger so different to his tastes.  
  
“Bro, have you watched any of this Akaashi Keiji’s videos?” shouted Bokuto, looking at Kuroo who was sprawled across their couch watching an inane tv show.  
  
Kuroo looked at him with half-lidded eyes, which wasn’t unusual because Kuroo always look at people with half-lidded eyes. “Hah? Akaashi Keiji? Ehh.. Guess so? Oh, is he the one who has those little movie-videos like the High Quest thing?”  
  
“Nooo, that’s Ennoshita Chikara,” replied Bokuto. “Akaashi Keiji.. A musician of some sorts?”  
  
“Ah well, I don’t recall ever watching a video of his,” said Kuroo, squinting at the television. “If I see his face, maybe I’ll recognize him, but bro, don’t make me think about who’s who because I freaking spent the whole night looking for that one video of two cats freaking out..”  
  
“Hah! So that’s why I keep hearing purrs last night! I thought that Lev broke in again and dumped a whole litter of kits!”  
  
Kuroo unenthusiastically waved an arm at him, which prompted Bokuto to turn back to his computer. He opened the search engine and hesitantly typed Akaashi Keiji’s name on the search bar.  
  
Instantly, the first of the links that appeared was the youtube link to his profile. Bokuto clicked on it.  
  
What greeted him was an utterly gorgeous profile picture, and a promotion video featuring that utterly gorgeous man on its center. Bokuto’s eyes were drawn to the heavy dark curls that framed Akaashi Keiji’s sharply angled face. If Bokuto was a poet, he would have stated that Akaashi’s eyes were eloquent and ardent, and yet languid in the way that it bored into the very depths of his being. He would have stated that Akaashi’s half smile was enchanting and provocative, revealing the illustrious promises of enchantment and carrying the air of a sylph. He would have stated that in one glance, in one minute of staring at this person, Akaashi Keiji’s entire self is diffused with a mysterious charm that screamed of temptation.  
  
Unfortunately, Bokuto wasn’t a poet, so all he thought was _Fuck, he’s hot._  
  
\--  
  
It was only after he heard the front door slam open and shut that Bokuto looked up from his screen. Kuroo was dozing heavily on the couch, stretched out like a cat that he must have been in his past life. Not that Bokuto could talk; he’s pretty sure his great-great-grandparent fornicated with a great horned owl.  
  
Today was Saturday, which meant that Kuroo and Bokuto had the house to themselves, because Oikawa worked as a part time model and Sawamura was off running a mafia or something. Therefore, he was extremely surprised when he looked up and saw a haggard looking Oikawa Tooru frowning at him grumpily.  
  
“What are you doing here?” asked Bokuto, frowning back at the model.  
  
Oikawa looked at him, incredulous. “I live here, Kou-chan.”  
  
“Yes, but you work during Saturdays?”  
  
“I do,” said Oikawa primly. “And I’ve also just gone back from it. Now all I want is to watch the latest Extra Stranger episode, but of course Tetsu-chan had to hog the couch and _you_ had to hog the forever alone seat.”  
  
“What?” came from Bokuto. “Wait, what time is it-- holy fuck it’s already 6PM?!” he exclaimed, dumbfounded. It was true-- Bokuto peered at the windows and saw that the sun was already nearly gone. His eyes widened. How long had he been watching on youtube?  
  
Oikawa must have been a psychic, because he piped up, “Lost track of time, Kou-chan? Why am I not surprised? What’s your current obsession now?” And then the Grand King squinted down at his laptop, looking at the paused video uploaded by user _ApatheticAkaashi_ and smirked. “Your current obsession is Akaashi Keiji?”  
  
Bokuto perked up. “You know Akaashi? Personally?” Excitement ran up and down and filled his entire body. If Oikawa knew Akaashi in real life, then maybe Oikawa could introduce them. Akaashi, an actual angel (he’d come this conclusion after watching the third oldest video from his channel) would of course say yes to a meet up. Say yes to a collab, because it’s popular demand. Maybe even a date. Bokuto could take him to that new bookshop-cafe just three blocks away from their university. Take him out for some boiled rapeseed plants with karashi mustard dressing, and some onigiri. Akaashi likes that, right? But they don’t serve that at cafes. Ah. Well. Maybe Bokuto could prepare a bento for him..  
  
“Do I know Akaashi Keiji?” scoffs Oikawa derisively, and for a brief moment Bokuto thought he’d have to call Iwaizumi for some Oikawa-damage control. “I should know him, since I’ve been working with him for the past few months.”  
  
“Huh?” was Bokuto’s rather unintelligent reply. “Wait, you mean as a model? But, but, his videos doesn’t tell so!”  
  
“And how would you know that? Did you binge-watch all his videos?”  
  
“Yes! Oikawa, have you seen him? He’s a literal angel. He’s perfect. He’s beauty personified and he’s--”  
  
“Yes, yes, I get your point! You binge watched him and now you have a crush on him, I take it?” Oikawa had lifted Kuroo’s feet and sat down the minimal space it vacated. Kuroo stirred.  
  
“What’s this about my brother of all bros liking someone?” muttered Kuroo, voice heavy with drowsiness. His sharp cat-like eyes stared at Bokuto. “You like someone and you told Oikawa about it first without telling me? Bro, _I’m hurt_.”  
  
“No no, bro, you were asleep!” protested Bokuto. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you, buddy. I wouldn’t betray, especially not for Oikawa.” He ignored Oikawa’s indignant squawk of “hey!” as he dramatically sobbed to Kuroo.  
  
“Oh, bro..” trailed off Kuroo while wiggling his eyebrows. Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows back.  
  
“But now is not the time!” cried Bokuto. He shoved his laptop face-level to Kuroo and shouted, “For I have seen the man of my dreams! The perfect companion to my poor, lonely s _owl_! The future father of our lovechildren! Look,” he insisted. “Look! Look at the perfection that is Akaashi Keiji!”  
  
Kuroo looked at the picture on the screen. “Way out of your league, but if Sawamura could snag someone like Sugawara, you can do it.”  
  
“I know right?” exclaimed Bokuto, bouncing on his feet and nearly stepping on a banana bread that was on the floor for some reason. Oikawa looked mildly disgusted. “He and I are meant to be, bro! He likes owls, Kuroo! He collects them and he wears them and he, he, he lives with them!”  
  
“Bro.”  
  
“Bro.”  
  
Bokuto promptly decided that his crush on Akaashi Keiji was nothing short of major. He turned to Oikawa, who was now fixated on the alien shit on the television.  
  
“So! You’ll introduce us, right? Right?” Bokuto stumbled over to Oikawa and pleaded with his pleading owl eyes. “You’d do anything for your friend, right? You’d let me date Akaashi Keiji, right?!”  
  
Oikawa gazed at him with wise eyes. “You know, I have a better idea than just asking to meet up. Why not ask to do a collab with him?”  
  
Bokuto froze. And then--  
  
“What a great idea! I knew there was a reason we let you live here! I’M SO PUMPED LET ME JUST SEND HIM A MESSAGE.” The owl-like part-time professional vlogger, full time volleyball player then grabbed his laptop from Kuroo’s grasp and ran to his room.  
  
Kuroo looked at Oikawa. Oikawa looked back at Kuroo.  
  
They both shrugged.  
  
Akaashi Keiji is in for a surprise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY AKAASHI KEIJI!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!!
> 
> A/N: THANK YOU VERY MUCH. You guys gave such positive reviews it was impossible to actually wait a week for the next update. So here it is, the second chapter. I consistently write 2k words every chapter so.. there. Apologies because it's really short. There would be some headcanons for this AU on the end notes, haha. I hope you guys enjoyed this. ~~I also hope my co-author stripperannie won't get mad at me for not completing the next chapter for our collab story LOL~~

The awfully shrill hooting that emitted from the closed door of one of the bedrooms didn’t surprise Oikawa Tooru. Neither did the loud thumping of the bass that was prerecorded. In fact, he anticipated it. When one starts hearing extremely high-level sound of music plus some shrieking, that meant Bokuto needed to think. Like the abnormal that he was, the bi colored-haired guy was the kind of person that do well with thinking when it was accompanied by disturbingly loud volumes.  
  
That didn’t mean Oikawa liked it, though. From the looks of it, neither did Kuroo, but that may be because he was currently trying to reach a jar of honey while determinedly not letting his feet dangle off from Oikawa’s comfortable lap. Oikawa didn’t blame him, his lap was comfortable, Iwaizumi himself said so. So instead of watching Kuroo’s pathetic attempts a multitasking and listening to Bokuto’s “meditative thinking”, he merely grabbed the remote conveniently placed near him and turned the television’s volume nearly to the highest level to drown out the horrible music and owl hooting.  
  
“Fuck, Oikawa,” winced Kuroo, and Oikawa himself winced when the two volumes collided and mashed up, Bokuto’s strange noises plus Oikawa’s _Extra Stranger_ alien sound effects. “Don’t do that, you know not to do that. It’ll destroy our eardrums.”  
  
(They don't even bother to mention what the neighbors would say. They’re still college students, it’s practically an excuse for everything.)  
  
“Sorry,” replied Oikawa, not being sorry at all. “But if Kou-chan wouldn’t lower his volume, I won’t lower mine too. Can’t pick up what they’re saying, you know.”  
  
Kuroo rolled his eyes at him and threw a banana at him. Oikawa indignantly huffed at him, but still caught it and started peeling it.  
  
“Where did you even get this?”  
  
“From my hair. That’s why it’s so messy and big, it’s full of secrets and stored valuables.”  
  
Abruptly, the loud music coming from Bokuto’s room stopped. Less than five seconds after, a door opened and shut loudly and the sound of running feet carried all the way to their lounge. Bokuto, who was very excited mere minutes ago, looked downright dejected.  
  
Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Kou-chan?”  
  
Bokuto pouted and held out his laptop for Kuroo and Oikawa to see. “Okay, so yeah, I was, you know, writing, trying to create the message, when I realized I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what’s the proper message for your future boyfriend? I can’t use ‘hey hey hey!’ as a greeting, I do that to all my videos. I want his greeting to be special! Do you think I should start with ‘I like you’? But then maye he’ll think I’m weird. Which I’m not. And I don’t know, what if he asks me what to do collab about? Fuku-chan? We’ll hang out while he’s petting Fuku-chan and I stare at him lovingly? He’s all into music and books and he’s so serious, what if he rejects my request? What should I do?!”  
  
At the end of his babbling, Bokuto breathed heavily, nearly panting but not yet because he’s an athlete and athletes rarely get tired easily. That, and Bokuto’s endless stamina definitely helped.  
  
Kuroo sat up, taking his feet off Oikawa’s lap and fixing his best friend one of his “I’ve got my cat eyes on you” stares. Oikawa himself have been subjected to one of those stares a few times too many, and if he must admit, it’s very uncomfortable.  
  
“Bro, first of all, chill. Me and Oikawa,” Kuroo threw a sidelong glance at Oikawa and the latter nodded infinitesimally, “are here to help you. Don’t worry. Now, sit down on the floor so we could see you.” He gestured to the carpeted space in front of the couch the two were currently sitting in.  
  
Bokuto frowned. “But why can’t I sit--”  
  
“I said sit down on the damn floor.”  
  
The pout appeared, but Bokuto obeyed, sitting down in front of them, back facing the two in order to let them see the computer in Bokuto’s lap.  
  
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve written,” declared Oikawa, leaning forward in order to catch the words on the screen.  
  
_From: bokuhoothoot_  
_To: ApatheticAkaashi_  
  
_Subject: HEY WANT TO DO A COLLAB_  
  
_Message: Hi im bokuto koutaro you may not know me but i know you very well, like reaaaally really well i watched all your videos. they are nice. i like them very much and i also like you r owl collections they are nice too. so i’m 21 years old and did you know i’ve been recently possibly scouted by the nationals team!! can you believe it? well kuroo says he can’t (he’s my best  bro and i live with him, in a totally bro way not the other thing way) and oikawa agrees (i heard you work with him? he’s annoying isn’t he especially when he hogs the bathroom) but only sawamura has faith in me (he’s a mafia lord don’t ask) and yeah. so what im saying is want to do a collab? We can do ANYTHING u want i mesan anything so yeah pls message me back!!_  
  
_Ps you look really cute u know_  
  
Oikawa took a deep breath and fought the urgle to strangle something. Someone. Preferably a person with black and white spiked hair, unlimited energy, and prone to dangerous mood swings. The urge was getting stronger..  
  
_Fight-o, fight-o_ , singsonged the cupid inside of Oikawa Tooru.  
  
_Fuck off, fuck off_ , chanted the annoyed Tooru to the love guru Tooru.  
  
He closed his eyes and counted to ten.  
  
One.. _Bokuto Koutaro is your housemate. It would not do to strangle him._  
  
Two.. _He is essential to the National Volleyball Team. He is a teammate._  
  
Three.. _He is just a child stuck in an adult body. Calm down._  
  
Four.. Five.. Six.. _He’s twenty one years old, for fuck’s sake! He’s not supposed to be this, this.._  
  
Seven.. _this idiot! How did he survive the high school, which was full of romance?!_  
  
Eight.. _Why is he dense oh my gods how does he flirt with girls? With very lame pick up lines? Oh my gods oh my gods how can he be this.. Unsmooth!!_  
  
Nine.. _Think of him as a challenge. Imagine. Oikawa Tooru, grooming the lamest flirter in history, Bokuto Koutarou, into a strapping, handsome, fine young man who’s so smooth you could slide on it like a freshly waxed floor. Wouldn’t that be a major feat for you?_  
  
Ten.. _He is Bokuto Koutarou, and he is your new project, Love Guru Oikawa Tooru._  
  
A guffawing laughter exploded from his side, and Oikawa snapped back to reality. Kuroo was currently doubled over, laughing his unattractive hyena-like laugh, wheezing and clutching his stomach. Bokuto looked faintly offended, but the confusion that swirled in his eyes were evident.  
  
“Okay,” said Oikawa, ignoring his seatmate who went from laughing merrily to laughing tearily. “Kou-chan, I want you to do something for me.”  
  
“What is it?”

  
“Delete all of that.” _Burn it. Destroy evidence. Uninstall that messaging app. Throw away your laptop._  
  
“What, why?!” exclaimed Bokuto loudly. His ears flattened and his face scrunched up. “I know it’s not that good, but I worked hard on it.”  
  
“I don’t care. Delete that..” _That pathetic excuse for a message for someone you’re possibly into? That monstrosity?_ “ “..that draft.” Oikawa forced out, his voice pained. Somehow Kuroo had survived his hysteria and had wiped the tears from his eyes.  
  
“You should listen to him, Bokuto,” said Kuroo, still snickering lightly. “I’m your best friend, and all, but bro, I didn’t know you’re this bad when it comes to that.”  
  
“That? What do you mean by ‘that’?” replied Bokuto, dumbfounded. “You mean how I write? But that’s how I write to you guys. And to my commenters.”  
  
Kuroo leaned forward and ruffled Bokuto’s hair. “We’re your mates, of course that’s how we text or chat each other. And your commenters don’t count because you could do nothing wrong in front of their eyes.”  
  
“Exactly,” agreed Oikawa. “Now do us a favor and delete that. Scoot over, Tetsu-chan, give space for Kou-chan to sit between us.”  
  
“What? No it’ll be very tight. I like space.”  
  
“I like space too, especially the outer space and the universe. Hurry up,” ordered Oikawa impatiently as he moved to the corner. Kuroo sighed and gave space, as Oikawa asked him too, and Bokuto stood up and plopped himself between them.  
  
Bokuto spoke, “Okay, everything’s deleted. Wait. Ah, uh, I want to keep the title!”  
  
“The title? No--”  
  
“Sure,” cut off Kuroo. “Just don’t put it in capslock.”  
  
“Okay,” said Bokuto, compliant.  
  
And so the three of them went and argued on how to make the best propositional-but-kinda-flirting-but-in-a-very-very-very-subtle-way message.  
  


* * *

  
Akaashi Keiji lived a relatively peaceful life.  
  
That’s a fact he’d known ever since he was able to think rational thoughts for himself. Pretty much nothing happens in his life, and so pretty much nothing catches his attention. It’s not that he tries to be that way; it just so happens that he was born into quietness and solitude. Akaashi Keiji, who have always been a quiet kid. Akaashi Keiji, who always blends in the background even when he possesses quality enough to be considered a gem. Akaashi Keiji, who exists but does not live.  
  
Akaashi’s world is greyscale, no swish of color ever made it vibrant. It was peaceful, it was comfortable, but it was also.. lacking.  
  
Boring, to some extent.  
  
And so, like what bored minds do, they search for stimulation. Akaashi did what he could to satisfy the hole that have always been there inside him. Social interactions were alright, he was passable in it, but it wasn’t enough to stir his interests. Academics are outright ignored under the boy’s eyes. Music.. in music, Akaashi found a little bit of spark that he craved and desired. And so he culminated it. He didn’t let it burn out-- instead he carefully, tenderly, almost lovingly tends to it everyday, feeding it with more kindling and hunger for growth.  
  
Over the years, it grew into what people called passion.  
  
(Except it’s not, because Akaashi still starves for something. Life, he supposed.)  
  
Middle school shifted to high school, arguably the most active years of his life. The drama, the tensions, the romances... that he never experienced. It was the most active partly because he had watched, with a certain amount of interest, whole backstories of each and every one of his classmates unfold before him. He had found an amusing companion in Tsukishima Kei, his junior a year below him with a weird fascination with dinosaurs. Akaashi knows he’s being a hypocrite, what with his own fondness for owls, but between dinosaurs or owls, which one was more normal?  
  
And then one day, Tsukki just brought up the topic of youtube.. And now here he was. Akaashi Keiji, that boring dude three seats away from everyone else, now an admired public figure. Akaashi Keiji, that quiet kid who was never noticed, have somehow snagged an offer for a modelling career. Akaashi Keiji, who was grey grey grey suddenly tilted somewhere around the color wheel, between darker shades and brighter shades and he’s not so much comfortable anymore.  
  
(And yet there’s still something he’s missing, some small part that was never filled because he didn’t even realize it was a hole, that it was empty, empty empty.)  
  
Akaashi Keiji is bored and boring. That’s a fact. Then--  
  
Then he wasn’t. Not anymore.  
  
_From: bokuhoothoot_  
_To: ApatheticAkaashi_  
_Subject: hey, wanna do a collab?_  
  
_Message: Hey, I’m Bokuto Koutarou. I’ve recently watched your videos (they’re extremely interesting, by the way, and definitely great) and I was wondering if you’re interested with the idea of doing a collab. A lot of our fans seemed to demand that, and it would be a shame to let them down, right? Don’t worry, I’m not doing this for them; I’m doing this because I_ really _am interested._  
  
_Please reply._  
  
_Hootingly yours,_  
_Bokuto_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got a tumblr, it's @countesscee. I've posted the first bit of headcanons there so here's the second part:  
> \- bokuto's first video is entitled 'hey hey hey!!'  
> \- the first few seconds had him staring at the cam while scratching his nose  
> \- and then looking at the person behind the camera (kuroo)  
> \- saying "what the fuck is it on you didn't tell me"  
> \- and then the video evolved and was mutilated by bokuto's horrible attempts at editing  
> \- to this day it is still very cringe-worthy but bokuto refuses to delete it  
> \- he says he loves it very much because "it's my first, yknow?"  
> \- and then he immediately retracts what he said months later when akaashi fucking commented on that video, unearthing real history  
> \- kuroo laughs like the bro he is while bokuto panics
> 
> ^^ So that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this. Thoughts? Reviews and comments are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!!
> 
> A/N: Hey there, Shan here. I apologize if my characterization deviates from that of their original selves, I'm a novice at writing their characters, honestly. So here is my humble offerings to the wonderful readers and commenters that showed their appreciation for this simple fic of mine.
> 
> Please enjoy. Your thoughts and reviews are always welcomed.

The steady thundering of the heavy rain calmed Akaashi Keiji. Chill permeated through the infinitesimal gaps between a window and its hinges; it seeped through the microscopic holes that are present in the thick slabs of wood and cement that serves as his walls; it slithered into his apartment through the open space under his front door. The resonance of the pounding droplets that the sky graced upon the earth was obnoxiously loud.  
  
It was a perfect time to read or to stay under the futon, warm and comfortable, and yet he did neither.  
  
The electric kettle that he had set up minutes ago automatically turned off with a click, hot puffs of steam rising up from its opening. It beckoned Akaashi to come closer. He carefully poured the scalding hot liquid into a ceramic mug and subsequently dropped a tea bag onto it, stirring absentmindedly as he tried to speed up the process of steeping. A dash of honey and it was good to go. Akaashi wasn’t as fond to tea as he is to coffee, but right now his coffee grounds are insufficient and all he had were some bags of lemon tea Yaku had stocked into his pantry when he visited a month ago. Lazy people who only do the grocery once a month can’t choose, after all.  
  
His sock-clad feet padded accross the well-worn rug as he made his way to his spot by the window. The entire room was shrouded in the darkness that is only natural when rain visits him. It was only disturbed by the faint glow of his laptop and the blinking lights of his phone, signalling some notifications.  
  
The message on the laptop screen left Akaashi a little bit bemused. Bokuto Koutarou was a well-known internet figure, both for his antics on youtube and his prowess at volleyball. Akaashi admired Bokuto when it comes to his strength and game sense. Once, he had watched a game played between the man’s university and another university, accompanied by Yaku, Tsukishima, Tsukishima’s friends Yamaguchi and Yachi, both of who twitches and apologizes at everything. From what he remembered from the game, it was astounding. Akaashi remembered being transfixed, being _enraptured_ at the sheer pride and joy Bokuto gave off whenever he scored something for their team. On the court, Bokuto Koutarou was a flame, and every single person in the gymnasium watching the game were mere moths who are drawn towards the smouldering fire.  
  
So. It didn’t make sense for a person like him to ask a person like Akaashi for a collaborated video. They run in entirely different circles, despite what some of their commenters say. The only things they have in common are volleyball, youtuber, and owls.  
  
(Thinking about owls made Akaashi worry about Soren, a wild owl that had grown fond of him and one who drops by every now and then to his apartment which is _in the middle of the city_.)  
  
The only collab videos Akaashi had done were with Tsukishima, those three videos with Futakuchi Kenji, and when he had been a guest in Oikawa’s talk show video series. It’s not that he’s busy, because he isn’t, nor because he doesn’t want to, because he does; it’s that nobody asks him is all. Akaashi knew his persona might be what some people call.. aloof. Cold, even. Antisocial, in some cases. Apparently, it’s the reason why not many people wanted to do a video with him. After all, most youtubers gain followers because of their charismatic and entertaining personalities. Akaashi was one of the rare cases of exceptions.  
  
He gulpd a mouthful of hot tea and relished the warm feeling it treads down his throat. The drink isn’t that bad, actually, and in another life, Akaashi might have been a tea-lover, but in this life he was and always will be someone with a caffeine addiction.  
  
There was a knock on his door, and Akaashi sighed very loudly because really? His spot is warm and comfortable and he absolutely did not want to get up.

“Ugh.” was his uncharacteristic mutter to himself, wishing to the gods he prayed to that whoever was at the door to leave him be.

Unfortunately, his wishes weren't heard ( _damn, Yato-sama, and here I thought five yen was enough for you_ ) because the knocking on his door persisted, prompting Akaashi to get up and peek at the peephole.

Tsukishima Kei’s unamused eyes peeked back at him.

When he opened the door, he was greeted with a “Finally, and here I thought dinosaurs will roam the Earth again before you opened your door.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “And wouldn’t you just like that?”  
  
“Of course,” replied Tsukishima as he entered the apartment, toting a rather large duffel bag. For what, he didn’t know. Akaashi noted that his hair and clothes were damp, obviously drizzled by the rain as he got out of his car. His eyes slid further to the mud on Tsukishima’s shoes.  
  
“Didn’t get to park in your usual place?” inquired Akaashi, already half anticipating the answer.  
  
Tsukishima shot him a look. “Yeah. Some asshole was double parking, so I had to park on the free lot next to it. But you already knew that, didn’t you? What gave it away?”  
  
“Mud on your shoes. Suggested that you had to run here, and since the parking lot is covered, there would be no puddles on it. I figured you had to run because the place you parked on wasn’t covered.”  
  
“Nice going, Mr. Holmes,” sarcastically commented Tsukishima. “Where’s your pipe and hat? And tea?”  
  
Akaashi quirked a smile as he watched Tsukishima go straight to his couch and plop down. “As a matter of fact, I am drinking tea. Want a cup?”  
  
“Eurgh. No thanks.”  
  
“So what’re you here for?”  
  
His friend raised an eyebrow. “What, you couldn’t deduce that?”  
  
At Akaashi’s blank look, Tsukishima smirked. “Fine, fine. I was wondering if I could crash your couch and sleep here for like, oh, I don’t know, forever?”  
  
“What happened?” asked Akaashi, now concerned. He settled in his usual spot and propped his laptop.  
  
Tsukishima let out a loud groan that signified just how pained he is by his situation. “My hot shower’s not working, the people who live upstairs have a very healthy and very loud sexual life, my neighbor two doors away on my left insists on giving everyone chocolate cake that taste like it’s been left on the fridge for a month, and my neighbor to the right has a very shitty and trashy playlist. And, he’s an idiot.”  
  
“Ah, what a dilemma,” replied Akaashi in a flat tone. “I take it the coup de grace was your idiot neighbor with shitty music?”  
  
“Yes.” was Tsukishima’s straight answer. Akaashi suppressed a shudder at the thought of neighbors who play loud and annoying music.  
  
“Well if you plan on staying here, you sure as hell won’t be sleeping in the couch. Guest room’s open and clean, Yaku made me clean it last Saturday,” assured Akaashi.  
  
“Oh, and I want to film one of my videos. Want to join?” offered Tsukishima.  
  
Akaashi shook his head. “No thanks.. but on the subject of videos, though, look at this..?” Akaashi scooted closer to Tsukishima and showed him the message from Bokuto. “I received that two nights ago. I don’t know what to say.”  
  
Tsukishima let out a low whistle, then snorted. “’Don’t worry, I’m not doing this for them; I’m doing this because I’m _reaaaally_ interested.’ Can he be any more subtle? What a joke.”  
  
“Shut up. What should I reply?”  
  
“Well, what do you want?” asked Tsukishima, giving him one of those sidelong looks. “It’s a simple yes or no, Akaashi. Do you want to do a collab with him?”  
  
Akaashi let out a sigh. “It’s not a simple matter of yes or no, Tsukishima. If I say yes, what should we do a video about? If I say no, what if I offend him and he’ll call me out on public? And besides..”  
  
Here, Akaashi gestured to the icon on Bokuto’s profile, which comprised of the bi-colored haired guy wearing an extremely gaudy pair of sunglasses, ridiculously drawn eyebrows, and mouth stuffed with marshmallows. Lots and lots of marshmallows.  
  
“..I want to know how he can fit twenty-four marshmallows in his mouth. I didn’t count, by the way, it just says so on his description.”  
  
“..What.”  
  
“What.”  
  
“What.”  
  
“What.”  
  
They both stared at each other, faces blank as the exam sheet of a student who didn’t know a single thing about the exams.  
  
“..You’re curious about him, aren’t you?” asked Tsukishima, finally breaking their little game.  
  
“Sort of,” mumbled Akaashi.  
  
“Not that kind of passive curiosity either, it’s different from that..” Tsukishima trailed off, in search for appropriate words, “.. that kind of curiosity you have for, say, that one project you had about owls and their mating habits. Or that time you followed a lower branch of a mafia clan and was mistaken as one of their gang.”  
  
“Not really,” replied Akaashi quickly.  
  
“Liar,” retorted Tsukishima. Akaashi just smiled innocently.  
  
In his defense, Akaashi wasn’t lying. He really wasn’t. He was curious, yes, but not the kind of curiosity that his friend seem to point out. He was.. more than intrigued and interested. It was different, but he couldn’t explain why. It makes sense, because ever since Akaashi had entered college and was subsequently thrown into the world of youtube, his days seem to be brighter and his interests seem to be increasing. Case in point, his newfound habit of being curious about weird stuff.  
  
(Still, he’s not complaining. He’s better off being inconvenienced and curious, than being comfortable and bored. Muted colors over monochromatic shades.)  
  
“Stop being pathetic and just say yes.”  
  
“But half of me doesn’t want to.”  
  
“Then let that half do the talking.”  
  
Akaashi sighed once more. “We’ll see.”  
  


* * *

  
  
A deafening, ear-splitting shriek reverberated inside the entire Sawamura - Kuroo - Oikawa - Bokuto household.  
  
Kuroo Tetsurou, who was taking a nap on the table, jolted out of his position and immediately dropped to the ground. Oikawa Tooru, who was having his concert on the shower, squeaked, dropped the shampoo bottle and went out of the bathroom without a stitch of clothing on his body. Sawamura Daichi, who was preparing dinner, let out a disturbed yelp as he accidentally touched the intensely hot pan.  
  
This all happened within a span of three seconds. Kuroo Tetsurou, who was lying on the ground, looked up in anger. Oikawa Tooru, who was as naked as the day he was born, turned to a closed door in anger. And Sawamura Daichi, who was clutching a burned hand, started walking towards _someone’s room_ in anger.  
  
With an infuriated snarl, Daichi marched towards Bokuto’s room and pounded heavily on the door. Oikawa grabbed the nearest piece of clothing (which was a discarded curtain) and covered himself as he walked after Daichi. There was a visible vein that threatened to pop on Kuroo’s forehead, his jaw taut and clenched.  
  
_“BOKUTO KOUTAROU!!!”_  
  
The door swung open and a red-faced Bokuto greeted the three angry housemates. The wing spiker raised an eyebrow.  
  
“What happened with you three?” questioned Bokuto. He waved a hand at them and gestured for them to come in. “Never mind, never mind. Come in you have to see this oh my gods I’m so happy!” Bokuto was jumping up and down, waving his arms like a madman. He took no notice of the angry expressions on his friends’ face.  
  
“Oh, yeah, Oikawa stop dripping water on my owl carpet, it’s custom made okay?”  
  
Oikawa let out a shout of frustration and snarled at Bokuto, hands gripping a nonexistent object. He stalked away and they all heard the bathroom door open and close with a bang.  
  
Bokuto blinked. “Eh? What’s with him?”  
  
“Bokuto.” It was Daichi’s ‘mafia’ voice, and Bokuto slowly felt a chill travel up his spine. He didn’t understand why Oikawa was naked, why Kuroo looked like, well, like he just rolled out of bed and was pissed for some reason, or why Daichi’s left hand was red. But he did understand that Daichi’s demon voice came out and it was enough to keep Bokuto cautious.  
  
“Ehehe, how’s it going, Daichi?” answered Bokuto nervously. He shot a look of “help me I have no idea what’s going on!” to Kuroo and was promptly ignored.  
  
“What have we told you about screaming inside the house?” thundered Daichi, eyes glazing over as he smiled in an innocent way. Bokuto swore he could practically see tendrils of menacing aura emanating from his housemate. He gulped comically. All four of them have ridiculous tempers, but Daichi’s was the worst; it’s why Bokuto was convinced that Daichi runs a mafia or an underground gang, not the bookstore he said he manages.  
  
“Er.. to not do it?” Bokuto slowly felt the ecstasy and glee he felt minutes ago ebb away. His nerves are practically screaming _‘Danger! Danger! Danger!’_  
  
“Then why did you do it?”  
  
“Because..” Why, indeed? Oh, that’s right. “BECAUSE AKAASHI FUCKING KEIJI REPLIED TO ME!”  
  
“Bokuto.” This time it was Kuroo who spoke, smile eerily similar to that one donned on Daichi’s face. “Get outside of the house and do a hundred laps around the campus. Or else.”  
  
“Eh? But-”  
  
The two cut him off. _“Now.”_

  
  


* * *

  
When it was over, when Bokuto’s entire body was slick with sweat and his bones are aching, he trudged towards their house. He was upset. How can he not be, when he was forced to run in the dark? Worse, someone had mistaken him for a robber. He was nearly pepper-sprayed!  
  
However, his spirts were lifted when he remembered what was waiting for him inside.  
  
“Hey hey hey!” he greeted enthusiastically and bounded off towards his three friends who were sitting on the lounge.  
  
“Don’t come near me you stink so much!” warned Oikawa who was sitting beside Kuroo. In response, Bokuto grabbed the setter and hugged him.  
  
“Ew ew ew get off get off I showered already oh my gods I hate you Kou-chan!” whined Oikawa. Daichi shook his head at them.  
  
Bokuto grinned. “You won’t believe what happened to me!”  
  
“What?’ was Daichi’s unimpressed answer.  
  
“AKAASHI FUCKING KEIJI REPLIED TO ME!!”  
  
Kuroo sighed. “Bro, we know. You told us, remember?”  
  
Oh. “Right. Well, let me get my laptop and I’ll show you!”  
  
Bokuto raced to his room and grabbed his laptop, opening it while running back. He thrust the screen in front of their faces.  
  
_To: bokuhoothoot_  
_From: ApatheticAkaashi_  
_Subject: re: hey, wanna do a collab?_  
  
_Message: Hello, Bokuto-san. First, thank you for the message you’ve sent me. To be frank, I was quite surprised to receive an offer from you, and I must say that it has piqued my interest._  
  
_My concerns, however, are these: your videos and mine have nothing in common. If we are about to make a collaboration, what are we to do about it? That is one matter. Please do not misunderstand. I am not refusing your offer. I just need some clarifications. When are we going to film it? When is it convenient for you? Do you already have ideas for it?_  
  
_If you would like to, we could meet up somewhere to talk about it..?_  
  
_Kind regards,_  
_Akaashi Keiji_  
  
“Wow, what an eloquent person,” commented Daichi. Oikawa nodded thoughtfully.  
  
“That’s Akaashi for you. Cool as cucumber. Eloquent as a dictionary. But not as gorgeous as me, of course.”  
  
Kuroo smirked. “Sure, Oikawa.”  
  
Oikawa threw a pillow at him.  
  
“So so so I replied, see?!”  
  
Kuroo and Oikawa’s head whipped back to stare at Bokuto incredulously. Daichi coughed, clearly disguising laughter.  
  
“You didn’t,” whispered Oikawa, horror in his voice.  
  
“What did we tell you, bro,” added Kuroo.  
  
Bokuto beamed. “Don’t mind it! It’s better than my previous message!”  
  
_From: bokuhoothoot_  
_To: ApatheticAkaashi_  
_Subject: re: re: hey, wanna do a collab?_  
  
_Message: hey hey hey YES I WANT TO MEET UP HERE’S MY NUMBER xxxxx PLEASE CONTACT ME FAST THANKS_  
_BOKUTO_  
  
_PS YOUR CUTE_  
  


And all the reply he got were pained groans.

"Eh..? What did I do wrong..?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So there, we have chapter three. RIP Bokuto.
> 
> Here's my Tumblr: @countesscee
> 
> And here are the additional headcanons. Tsukki this time hoho  
> \- tsukishima's usual greeting for his videos are, if you can believe it, "what's up losers"  
> \- it was completely unintentional how he started it  
> \- once he was just in a bad mood and that's how he greeted that video  
> \- it stuck and the tsukishima fandom call themselves "losers"  
> \- and there are a lot of dinosaur-themed rooms inspired by tsukki's ok  
> \- and one day tsukki's like walking around the city, headphones on, arms tucked in his pockets when out of nowhere a DOZEN OF DINOSAUR ONESIES APPEARED and tsukki went "what what's going on" and no matter how much he loved the dinosaur onesies he still feared for his life so he legit RAN towards the nearest cafeteria  
> \- and was promptly surprised to find EVERYONE wearing a dinosaur thing on their person. see that girl over there? dinosaur clip. that dude? dinosaur hoodie. that child? WILL YOU LOOK AT THAT it's a dinosaur jumper  
> \- everything was so dino and the music playing was tsukki's playlist  
> \- it was his birthday  
> \- tsukki swore he didn't cry  
> \- akaashi and yaku disagrees


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!!
> 
> A/N: Here you go, little ones. I'm sorry for not updating on friday-saturday, I had a bit of a writer's block and was stumped on how to write this chapter. Luckily, I was able to overcome it by writing a fic for another fandom (K-Project; Sarumi) and thus here is chapter four. Enjoy!
> 
> No headcanons today, I'm sorry. I'll probs have it up in the middle of the week on tumblr.

The message on the screen terrified Akaashi Keiji.  
  
Well, terrified is a hyperbole. Perhaps the appropriate term would be weirded out? The message he had received immediately from Bokuto was a far cry from the first message he had sent. There was no outright familiarity in the second message, but it still felt weird to receive a message of that sort from someone you barely know.  
  
He didn’t know how to respond to such messages. He also didn’t want to bother Tsukishima, who had already holed himself up in the guest room, presumably filming a video blog entry.  
  
_PS YOUR CUTE_ confused the hell out of Akaashi. His cute.. What?  
  
Case A: Bokuto sent it accidentally before completing his message. Case B: It is not Bokuto who sent him the second message. Case C: It is Bokuto who sent him the second message, but not him who sent the first message. Case D. Bokuto wants to compliment him.  
  
Case D is the most unlikely, since from what he’d gleaned, Bokuto is a grown up; therefore, he shouldn’t be making grammatical errors. Also, to compliment Akaashi? Preposterous.  
  
Akaashi dug out his phone from the depths of his couch and tried on the number on the screen.

  
  
_Akaashi:_ Is this Bokuto-san?  
  
_Xxx-xxxx:_ who dis how u get my num  
  
_Akaashi:_ This is Akaashi.  
  
_Xxx-xxxx:_ AKAASHI  
  
_Xxx-xxxx:_ hI YES IM BOKUTO  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ how u doin this fine evening  
  
_Akaashi:_ I’m doing well, Bokuto-san. Thanks for asking.  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ good! great!! where do u meet up???????  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ wait i have somewhere in mind  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ they sell the MOST DELISH COOKIES the y r supreme cookei bakers  
  
_Akaashi:_ That sounds fantastic, Bokuto-san.  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ OMF UR LIKE TWELVE  
  
_Akaashi:_ ????  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ SORRY XSEND I WA S TEXTING KUROO  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ anywya heres directiosn.....  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ think u can go there???  
  
_Akaashi:_ Yes, Bokuto-san. It isn’t that far. How does 9AM sound?  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ wya 2 early btu perfect  
  
_Akaashi:_ Alright. Meet you there at 9. Thank you, and goodnight Bokuto-san.  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ aw goodnite!!  
  
  
\--  
  
  
When the doors of the train closed with a hiss, Akaashi found himself being flattened amidst the jampacked sardine-like congregation of people that wanted to be comfortable in the metal carriage. He was pressed between two other men and one lady, backs to him, and for that he was grateful. It was a struggle already trying to balance himself whilst trying not to look like an idiot. He didn’t need anymore of the awkward but inevitable eye contact.  
  
He also didn’t need the attention of people who knew him, or knew of him. That’s why he had taken the extra measure to wear dull grey shirt and jeans, black coat, and a beanie. He had, like always, plugged on his earphones without actually turning on the music. He had adopted a slow, dragging gait and had not made a single eye contact with anybody.  
  
Akaashi might be well-known, but two and a half years of spotlight does not erase a decade of blending into the background.  
  
It was with a sense of foreboding that Akaashi vacated the carriage along with dozens of its passengers. Why, he can only guess and not know. The one thing in his mind right now, though, is how late he is with his meeting.  
  
His phone buzzed inside his pocket, prompting Akaashi to discreetly take it out and view the message.  
  
  
_Bokuto-san:_ running late?? im here @ the back booth. U’ll know it when u see it  
  
  
This was his current concern. Akaashi made it a point to be punctual, like the person he was raised to be, and so far he had been successful at doing what was expected of him. Unfortunately, some ungodly thing had happened and he had woken up thirty minutes later than he intended to, and now he’s on his way to meet a fellow youtuber sixteen minutes late than their agreed time.  
  
_I’m sorry, Bokuto-san,_ his mind whispered with a cringe as he thought of how rude his first impression was to the man.  
  
Walking faster, but still aware of his surroundings, Akaashi’s thoughts smoothly transitioned from his current concerns to casual observation. The sun’s early morning rays broke yesterday’s thunderous aura, but the slightly cool air still enveloped the entire place. Small puddles of the rain that occured yesterday were barely visible, ocassionally being stepped on by the mindless run of teenagers and the fussy walking of an office lady.  
  
His steps lead him to the less populated, less busy part of the city. Green eyes flitted to the signs that hang overboard and he quietly let out a relieved sigh. He was on the correct part of the town, that’s for sure. Akaashi continued walking along the pavement, mindful of the steps he took and the directions he was heading to. Three turns later, he was greeted by the sight of a miserable looking coffee shop.  
  
Nothing screams provocative quite like a purposefully rundown establishment, in Akaashi’s opinion. More often than not, the allure of ragged and dysfunctional signs, the gloomy aura of the windows despite of the time of the day, and the shabby exterior of it deliver Akaashi a sense of desire to look, to unravel. In the midst of their mysterious and inviting presence, their unpleasant appearance is lost. Somehow, what was tawdry and inelegant blinds Akaashi into seeing a warped sense of beauty that was carefully spun.  
  
The inside was, thankfully, not poorly lit like he expected it to be, and there was a slow trinkle of bells when he opened the door. One glance at the wall-like windows told Akaashi that the dreary outlook of the shop was due to the mounting piles of dirt on it. There were a handful of customers on the shop, all immersed in what they were doing, and from the looks of it, they weren’t there for the first time. Mismatched and threadbare couches were added to every wooden table, alongside the neutral colors of plastic chairs. The walls were a soft brown and it added to the homey effect of the cafe.  
  
_Hm, so the outside is enticing and the inside is welcoming,_ Akaashi thinks.  
  
He shuffles on the deeper part of the shop and spots a lone figure sitting on the very back, wearing a beanie similar to Akaashi’s and engrossed in playing on his phone. Tufts of white hair peeked out from the head accessory, strangely mesmerizing to look at. There was a big pair of glasses sitting on the person’s face. As if he could feel the stare on him, he looked up, and Akaashi saw the face of one Bokuto Koutarou.  
  
‘AKA--” started Bokuto, but promptly glued his mouth shut, a tinge of pink on his cheeks. Akaashi was glad; the attention people sometimes give to him was nervewracking.  
  
Quickly, so as not to garner attention to themselves, Akaashi sat on the empty booth across Bokuto. He drank in the sight of the person in front of him, noting the intensely beautiful shade of gold in his eyes and the fairer (fairer than Akaashi’s, at least) skin he has. There was an interestingly owl-themed wristwatch on Bokuto’s left wrist, as well as a smidge of rust on the elbow part of the striped blue and white sweater he’s wearing.  
  
Akaashi bows politely. “I’m terribly sorry, Bokuto-san, for being late. I hope I didn’t inconvenience you.”  
  
“D-don’t worry about it!” beamed Bokuto. “I haven’t been waiting too long, anyway. Just around thirty minutes or so..”  
  
“Thirty minutes?” repeated Akaashi. What a horrible person he was, letting someone wait for that long. “I’m really sorry. I offer no excuses, but please let me treat you a drink and some of their cookies?”  
  
“No, no, don’t mind!” blurted Bokuto. “I’ve been playing this game ever since I got here so I was distracted and, yknow, didn’t really wait that long?” He held out his smartphone and Akaashi leaned forward to look at it.  
  
There were about three cats lazing about playfully on the screen.  
  
“ _Neko Atsume_?” asked Akaashi for confirmation, eyes still trained on the pure white, two dimensional cat playing with a red ball in an adorable manner. “Then I do undertand why you feel as if you didn’t wait long.”  
  
“Right, right?” said Bokuto. Without warning, he shot up his seat and bowed deeply. “A-ah, I need to formally introduce myself! I’m Bokuto Koutarou and thanks for agreeing to do a collab with me!”  
  
Feeling awkward with himself, partly because he just sat down, mostly because he hadn’t really wanted to do a collab with the man (he’s just dying to know how Bokuto could fit twenty-four marshmallows in his mouth), Akaashi coughed and stood up. “Akaashi Keiji, it’s nice to meet you, Bokuto-san. Um, do you want to get started now or should we order..?”  
  
“Ah, let me order for you.” Bokuto waved away Akaashi’s wallet which had already appeared. “What do you want?”  
  
“Bokuto-san, I insist.”  
  
“I want to, Akaashi!” said Bokuto. “You can treat me later, okay?”  
  
“Fine,” replied Akaashi, not wanting to put up an argument about who’s treating who. He mentally took note that he would have to treat Bokuto doubly so because of his earlier punctuality, or lack thereof. Akaashi stated his desired order and Bokuto took off alarmingly fast to get to the counter.

 

* * *

  
  
In the middle of playing a game with Kenma, Kuroo’s phone buzzed.  
  
“Oya?” he said, answering the callfrom Bokuto. Kenma threw a glance at him.  
  
“Bro help me,” was Bokuto’s greeting. “He’s here and he’s so pretty and I can’t help myself! I’m hiding behind a bamboo plant and he’s sitting there being so perfect! What do I do?”  
  
Kuroo snicked. “Stop being a wimp and approach him?”  
  
“Kuroo!” groaned Bokuto. “I had to order his coffee and mine just so I could get away from him. He’s just, woaah. Kuroo, I can’t handle him. Why is he so perfect. I’m so weak, bro, so weak. And oh my gods this kid is staring at me she noticed my hiding spot oh my gods I hope she doesn’t recognize me oh my gods bye--”  
  
The line cut off. Kuroo shook his head and picked up the game controller again.  
  
“Was that Koutarou?”  
  
“Yeah, and he’s being a lovesick fool.”  
  
“Hmm.”

 

* * *

  
  
Bokuto came back bearing two cups of coffee and a huge plate of cookies, along with an empty paper bag tucked between his arms and body.  
  
“Here you go,” Bokuto presented the cup of coffee and Akaashi inhaled the wonderful aroma emanating from the cup.  
  
He eagerly put a hand around it and cautiously took a sip. It was great. “Thank you so much.”  
  
“Take some of the cookies, they’re delicious,” recommended Bokuto, already munching on one of them. There was a spot of cookie crumbles on his chin, forming the Orion's Belt constellation, and Akaashi suppressed the urge to laugh. He didn’t know why he found cookie crumbles amusing.  
  
Akaashi picked one up and bit into it. His eyes widened imperceptibly. “You’re right, these are delicious. How did you know that this place sells these ridiculously good cookies?” The cookie immediately disappeared into Akaashi’s mouth and he quickly snatched another one.  
  
There’s a twinkle in Bokuto’s eyes when he answered. “Oh, I know what you mean. This place is so run-down, you won’t expect it to have good food and good coffee, right? Well, Daichi, that’s one of my roommates by the way, needed a job once and he worked here part time. Kuroo and I hung out a lot here, and that’s before we did youtube. The owner knows us.”  
  
“Ah, that makes sense,” commented Akaashi, now eating his fourth cookie. He swallowed it down and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s a good thing this cafe is rather.. Obscure.”  
  
Bokuto, for some reason, winced. “About that..”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Akaashi.. How fast can you run?” asked Bokuto seriously, while packing the cookies in the paper bag.  
  
“Fairly okay. Why do you ask?”  
  
“Because I’m pretty sure someone, for the first time in my life since I’ve been going here, spotted me and recognized me.”  
  
Akaashi stared. “Do you mean to tell me that there’s a possible fan sitting in the same cafe as us, and they recognized you?”  
  
“I’m not certain, but please get ready, we might have to run.”  
  
“But we haven’t even talked about what we’re going to film.”  
  
“I know. I’m sorry.” Bokuto gulped his scalding hot coffee. “Ouch, ouch that’s hot.”  
  
Akaashi followed suit, ignoring the heat of his coffee. “What if you’re just overreacting?”  
  
Bokuto gestured wildly. “Okay, look, turn around but not obviously. Look at the girl wearing a green scarf and tell me she isn’t a fan.”  
  
Discreetly, Akaashi pretended to do something and turned to look at the person Bokuto had described. She was definitely looking at them in a dangerously curious. When she made eye contact with Akaashi, she gasped and typed something on her phone.  
  
Oh. Well. “Is running really the advisable thing to do?” questioned Akaashi as he faced Bokuto once more.  
  
“Do you want to entertain hundreds of fans this early in the morning?” shot back Bokuto.  
  
“Most certainly not. Is, wait, can you see the outside from your position?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Let’s trade places.”  
  
They got up and switch places, and Akaashi was struck by how ridiculous all of this was. It’s barely ten in the morning and something like this was happening already.  
  
When he sat down on Bokuto’s previous spot, he squirmed at the heat of it. Ignoring it, he squinted at the dirty window far across the room.  
  
“Why did we change places, Akaashi?”  
  
“So I could monitor whether or not there are incoming hordes. Do you know any exit pathways?”  
  
“Yep. Ooh, you’ve got some cookie crumbles on your chin, here let me help you,” said Bokuto, leaning over and wiping it away with three of his fingers. Their eyes met. The awkwardness in the situation settled on the air between them, intangible but certainly there.  
  
“I’m sorry!” blurted out Bokuto. “That was-- that was, very rude of me!”  
  
Akaashi himself felt a little faint. “N-no, no, it’s okay,” he hastily reassured his companion. “B-but if you must know there’s some crumbs on yours, too.”  
  
“Eh?” Quickly, Bokuto harshly pressed the back of his hand to his chin, wiping away the remains of the cookies. Akaashi’s eyes were strangely drawn towards them.  
  
At least until he heard a faint squeal of “oh my gosh!” and looked up and saw the girl looking at them with wide eyes. _Definitely_ a fan. His eyes further slid to the windows and saw the ominous figures appearing on the other side of the opaque screen. He solemnly looked at Bokuto.  
  
“Bokuto-san. We need to get out of here. Quietly. _Now_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Edit:** SOMEBODY MADE A FAN ART FOR THIS CHAPTER, THE SCENE WHERE BOKUTO WIPES AKAASHI'S CRUMBS. I AM NOT OKAY. I AM SO OVERWHELMED. It's so beautiful!! [ Here is the link. ](https://twitter.com/meltymozzarella/status/679822306189824000) Aaahhh. I love it so much asdovjdk check it out guys!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto and Akaashi run. They have fun. Akaashi is faintly impressed, Bokuto is vaguely depressed.
> 
> (Please pardon the rhymes. Lmao.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!!
> 
> A/N: I'M TERRIBLY SORRY. I hit a rough patch in life. I won't bore you with details, but please do accept my apologies for not regularly updating.
> 
> This is such a crappy chapter for me. I hope next chapter will be better than this. Sorry guys.
> 
>  
> 
> And, somebody made an art for my fic. The link is on the previous chapter. Thank you.
> 
> ALSO: I forgot to shoutout to Zero for the collab ideas!! hahaha thanks bud

  
Truthfully speaking, perhaps running away wasn’t the best idea that Akaashi thought of. To be fair, he wasn’t the one who thought of it; it was Bokuto’s idea, and no matter how hard Akaashi tried to reevaluate his life, he could not remember why he decided to go with Bokuto’s plan of action. The best, and possibly most ideal, action they could have taken was approach the girl in green scarf, talk to her, and probably let her hug them. Akaashi wasn’t complaining about the stitch on his side from too much running; after all, he himself run at least five times a week. He just never had to run from people.  
  
Oh. Wait, yes, he did run from those gang members one time.  
  
Akaashi preferred to blend in the crowd when he so pleases to hide himself. That was his way of fleeing. Not actual running, which is what he’s currently doing.  
  
A hand grasped his forearm and Akaashi found himself being jerked into an alleyway. Breathing hard, he balanced himself and tried not to hunch down so as to keep his oxygen intake even. Beside him, Bokuto was red in the face, but looking far too energetic. Akaashi looked down and saw mud on his shoes. He cursed in his mind, thinking of the troublesome fact of getting it cleaned.  
  
“They’re still there,” whispered Bokuto, leaning forward in a comical manner, like a spy in one of Yaku’s favorite movies.  
  
“I had no idea your fans are this.. efficient and organized,” commented Akaashi, leaning on the wall. He regretted it immediately when he felt moisture seep through his coat.  
  
“Eh? Whadya mean?”  
  
Akaashi quickly took a peek on the gaggle of mostly females conspicuously looking out for them. “It took them less than ten minutes to gather after receiving the heads up from the one that spotted us. Almost all routes are covered in groups of three, and from what I’ve seen, at least one of each group in talking.. no, reporting to the others. It’s like one organized militia of fans.”  
  
“That’s..” started Bokuto.  
  
“..scary?” offered Akaashi.  
  
“So cool!” There were twinkles in his eyes as he exclaimed his opinion. “They’re like, a squad, right? Like the ones in _Shingeki no Kyojin_? Or, or, or _Owari no Seraph_? That is so awesome. It makes me want to say hi and compliment them on their teamwork.”  
  
Sighing, Akaashi replied, “On an objective view point, their actions are indeed notable,” and a bit terrifying. But certainly noteworthy. “but may I remind you that if they are as efficient as they are.. the odds are on their side and not ours.”  
  
Bokuto, it seems, paid him no attention. “I’m so proud of them.”  
  
Akaashi sighed once more. He took a second time to reevaluate his purpose in life and the reason he existed.  
  
“Are they gone?” He took a different route of conversation this time. Bokuto peered again.  
  
“Yep. Can’t see them anywhere.” Appeased, Akaashi stepped out from their hiding spot and briskly walked toward the general vicinity of the crowd that he could blend in.  
  
He heard the hurried footsteps of his companion. “Akaashi! Wait up, hey hey-- geh!” There was a sound of feet stepping onto a puddle of rainwater. Bokuto cursed rather colorfully, words that would have certainly made Akaashi’s own mother blush. “I got my pants wet!”  
  
“Ah, aren’t you a bit too old for that, Bokuto-san?” asked Akaashi in a tone lacking of inflection, slowing down his pace so as to let his companion catch up to him.  
  
“Wha--Er--Eh? Akaashi, eh?! Are you teasing me?!” accused Bokuto, surprise evident in his voice. He looked quite indignant.  
  
Akaashi’s upper lip twitched ever so slightly. “Of course not.”  
  
“You totally are!”  
  
“Am not.”  
  
“Are too!”  
  
“Am not.”  
  
“Are too!”  
  
This is silly, thought Akaashi, but the thought didn’t stop him from reiterating his ever so eloquent argument. “..Am not.”  
  
Bokuto grumbled under his breath. “That’s so mean, Akaashi, you’re supposed to be on my side.”  
  
“I wasn’t aware there were any sides at all.”  
  
“There’s always a side! My side!” proclaimed Bokuto.  
  
Akaashi paid him no attention, eyes searching for the signs of a familiar group. He squinted at everyone, taking his time to observe who’s suspicious.  
  
“Where should we go now?” he wondered out loud. “Do you know any other cafes, Bokuto-san? Preferably somewhere we can’t be seen?”  
  
Bokuto dramatically put his hand on his chin. “Hmm.. Ah, I know another place.”  
  
“Then lead the way, please.”  
  
  


* * *

 

 

" _Shit, they caught us again! Run, Akaashi!"_

_"Already running, Bokuto-san!"_

_"No no no wait ah--"_

_"Bokuto-san, please leave your crepes or they will catch us."_

_"Dammit!"_

* * *

 

  
  
“Bokuto-san, please understand. I will not follow you around playing my violin as you parade around your university campus.”  
  
“But Akaashi, your idea of doing a musical about owls is too nerdy!”  
  
“Shall I take that as a compliment?”  
  
“N--yes! Yes! Please stop looking at me with those soul devouring eyes!”  
  
“I don’t look at you with such eyes. Bokuto-san, that’s my suggestion paper you’re using, not the table napkin.”  
  
“Eh?! Sorry, sorry! Well, it’s not like I would agree to your suggestions anyway..”  
  
“What was that, Bokuto-san?”  
  
“Nothing. Nothing. Oh, well, your best idea would probably be.. Pfft. You’re such a nerd, aren’t you, Akaashi? Oh, don’t glare at me like that. You suggested we do a Kuroko no Basuke kind of thing but instead of basketball, we do volleyball.”  
  
“Well.. I’m a setter and you’re a wing spiker, aren’t you? We can be the Kuroko-Kagami tag team and let other people be the Generation of Miracles. Oikawa Tooru as Kise, for example.”  
  
“.. Akaashi, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s put that in the -maybe- list.”  
  
“Okay. Anyway, what’s this?”  
  
“What’s what? Oh, that. That’s a makeup video suggestion. You know the my boyfriend does my makeup tag? I thought, hey, why don’t we do that? But not that you’re my boyfriend, of course, we could start a new tag like my friend does my makeup? I don’t know much about makeups, but maybe-- Akaashi? Akaashi, HEY, _AKAASHI WHY ARE YOU RIPPING MY PAPER IN PIECES?”_  
  


* * *

  
  
The sun was barely starting to descend on its slumber by the time Akaashi had come home. Workers and students alike were milling about in the place, each of them either trying to go home or spend more of their time aimlessly wandering around. He paid them no notice. Akaashi trudged up silently on the stairs, resolutely ignoring the elevator of his building. By the time he opened his door, he began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he should have bought dinner take outs instead of cooking for himself.  
  
Sighing in complete exhaustion, Akaashi plopped down on his couch gracelessly. He felt like curling up on his bed like a burrito after such a tiring day.  
  
It wasn’t that he’s physically tired; no, it was that Bokuto Koutarou was too much for one person to handle. Akaashi had his patented ‘so done with your shit’ look and yet Bokuto didn’t sense it.  
  
Inevitably, Akaashi had to create another patented look: ‘I am not paid enough to deal with your shit.’  
  
Still. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy their day together. Thinking about it, Akaashi realized he spent at least six hours with the guy he barely knew just to discuss concepts of what they’re going to do for their collab. It was.. surprising.  
  
Surprising because in the span of six hours, however tired he might be of Bokuto’s antics, he didn’t find an ounce of boredom well within his feelings. Bokuto Koutarou was, and is, an interesting person. Frankly, Akaashi didn’t mind being bothered by that person.  
  
If this is what being friends with someone like him.. Maybe Akaashi should.. expand his circle more.  
  
Immersed in his own musings, a thought strayed into Akaashi’s mind.  
  
“..Shit. I didn’t ask him how he could fit twenty-four marshmallows in his mouth.”  
  


* * *

  
  
When Bokuto Koutarou slumped down on the welcoming mat of their home, he did not expect to find Daichi and Suga making out on their sofa.  
  
“Uh,” he greeted them eloquently.  
  
A beat or two passed. Daichi continued sucking on Suga’s face, and it was making Bokuto highly uncomfortable. The welcoming mat he was situated on also made the situation twice more uncomfortable due to its inability to soften the floor he was on. He wanted to stand up, but his energy levels are near depleted and he just wanted to lie down like a sack of potato.  
  
Vaguely horrified as Suga started to tug off Daichi’s shirt, Bokuto reasoned with himself that perhaps, enough is enough. Sometimes one needs to know when to draw the line.  
  
So he took off one of his house slippers and threw it with the force he could muster on the smooching pair.  
  
“Hey!” he shouted just as the slipper hit Daichi’s shoulder. Startled, the two jumped back from another, Suga looking very thoroughly snogged and Daichi, well, Daichi looking the same.  
  
“Sup, I’m home,” waved Bokuto as he continued his position as the welcoming mat’s sack of potato. “Didn’t know you’d be here, Suga.”  
  
“Bokuto, sorry about that,” replied Daichi, looking flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck. “If I knew you’d be back this early..”  
  
“You’d still be sucking each other’s faces,” snorted Bokuto.  
  
Suga beamed at him. Bokuto blinked as the sudden vision of lights entered his imagination, as well as a heavenly orchestra playing in the background. He mentally waved it off.  
  
“Ahh, still, sorry,” said Suga sheepishly “And, what are you doing there?” He stood up along with Daichi, who muttered an excuse to go to the bathroom. Suga approached Bokuto on his place and crouched down to his level.  
  
Bokuto groaned. “Don’t mind me. Go do your thing. I’m just a sack of potato with no purpose in this world.”  
  
Concerned, Suga held out a hand and Bokuto accepted it gratefully, letting himself be pulled up by Daichi’s partner. “What happened? Where did you go today? Talk to me.”  
  
“He’s too perfect,” mumbled Bokuto as he made his way to the couch. Suga sat down besides him.  
  
“Who’s too perfect?”  
  
“Akaashi Keiji,” replied Bokuto, curling up. “He’s got this absolutely silky hair that curled slightly and it drives me mad. He rarely ever smiles but when his lips quirk up you could see his eyes smiling. His jokes and inside digs are awful, and he doesn’t want to take my side, but oh gods his eyes, Suga. His eyes are the absolute best. As well as his voice, and dear lord I love the mole on the back of his neck. He’s so perfect.”  
  
“Then what’s wrong?” asked Suga, bemused.  
  
Bokuto waved his hands in a vague mannner. “He’s too perfect, Suga. Too perfect for someone like me.” He curled around himself even tighter.  
  
“Is that really what you think?” inquired Suga.  
  
“Yeah. He’s.. Akaashi is.. way out of my league.”  
  
“I think you’re putting him in a high pedestal, Bokuto,” Suga had leaned forward to pat Bokuto on the head. “And that’s not something you should do. Look, why is Akaashi too perfect?”  
  
“Because he is!”  
  
“No offense, but he’s probably not. See, from my point of view, you’re just emphasizing the traits that he does and magnifying it with some sort of rose-tinted magnifying lens. That makes him, as you put it, way out of your league, when in fact he might just be one level above you. Hell, Akaashi Keiji might be someone whose level is lower than you. You need to stop doing that for both of your sake. How would you feel if somebody said they like you just for your looks?”  
  
“That’d be really shallow.”  
  
“Exactly. But with what you’re doing, it’s not just his looks.. But you’re refusing to see him as the human he is. Well, I might be spouting bullshit, but trust me when I say he won’t appreciate it if you suddenly tell him you like him just because of his good traits.”  
  
Bokuto stared at Suga. “Do you know Akaashi?”  
  
“No, not personally,” said Suga. “But I know you. You tend to downplay your own positive and admirable traits in favor for idolizing a manic pixie girl, or in this case, a boy.”  
  
“Huh,” said Bokuto, now staring at the distance.  
  
Daichi appeared, carrying a glass of water which he handed to the defeated owl-like person. “Suga’s right. Stop moping about it. Why are you even moping about him? Did he say something to you?”  
  
“No! No,” assured Bokuto quickly. “I’m just overwhelmed by how nice and.. gracious he is. You guys know how much I could be, right? He handled it all impeccably. I’m so amazed..”  
  
“Well, if he had the strength to deal with Bokuto Koutarou, I might agree about his perfectness, Suga,” joked Daichi.  
  
“Hey!” protested Bokuto.  
  
“Aw, Bo-kun, don’t pout.”  
  
“I’m not pouting!”  
  


* * *

Chatlog:  
  
_**: Bokuto Koutarou runs away with Akaashi Keiji!  
**_

__: lolwhut

: What? What do you mean?

: Ohhhh! I know I know!

: We were there earlier! I was on squad 3! Bokuto was legit running with Akaashi Keiji!

: No way! Pictures??

: <<embedded picture>>

: HOlYS HTIST

: RIP RIP MY NEW HSIP I SHIP IET!!

: That's not all! <<embedded picture>>

: WHAT'S HE DOING HERE??? IS HE LEANING OVER TO KISS HIM??? TO WIPE HIS MOUTH?? TO JUST DO SOMETHING??

: sometimes i just really hate my phone smh sorry for the low quality guys

: YOU WERE THERE??!!?!??!

: !!!!!!

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Listen, Furudate Haruichi owns the characters and their depth. Okay?
> 
> A/N: Feel free to throw rotten tomatoes at me. And apples, too.
> 
> I'm really, really sorry for this late chapter. To make it up to you guys, I doubled the number of words and it's around 4.5k words. Sigh.
> 
> Also, they finally do a collab. FINALLY.

_Acutely aware of the other’s actions, Akaashi blazed a trail of soft, barely-there kisses, starting from the tips of Bokuto’s pinky. He suckled on the digit, careful to keep eye contact with his partner. A whimper rose from Bokuto, eyes trained on Akaashi’s endeavors. Akaashi gently, almost reverently, marveled at Bokuto’s hand; it was rough, the callouses speaking of the hours and days Bokuto had spent on training. There was a faint scar on the back of Bokuto’s thumb, and Akaashi placed a well-meaning kiss on top of it. There were no other words to describe what Akaashi was doing, Bokuto thought, except loving his hand._  
  
Vaguely horrified at the words displayed on his phone screen, Akaashi scrolled past it and promptly discovered more sentences delivered in the same manner. He itched to close it and throw his phone far, far, away, but curiosity got the better of him.  
  
After his and Bokuto’s failed attempt to talk about their video, the internet had exploded with speculations about why they were together. The most prevalent, of course, was that they were doing a collaboration, which wasn’t wrong. The second most accepted theory, and the root of all the things why Akaashi was reading, was that they were dating.  
  
Sometimes fans are weird, he thought. Even standing next to the person you’re shipped with can make them explode with feelings.  
  
By the third day after they were spotted together, Komi had sent Akaashi dubious links of fanarts and fanfictions. Akaashi balked at the sight of them. Apparently, there had been stories about them way before they met, but it increased exponentially once they were spotted.  
  
Well. It’s not like it’s actually affecting them..  
  


* * *

  
  
_“Nn.. Bokuto-san..”_  
  
 _Lips tangled together. Fingers splayed on the back, on the neck, on the hips, so close to each other that Bokuto didn’t know where he started and where he ended. They were pressed together so intimately, almost as if trying to bury under each other’s skin and mold together into one being. Everything was stifling hot but Bokuto didn’t mind. Akaashi’s scent was all he could focus on; musky, earthy, and something Bokuto recognized as sandalwood and, surprisingly, mint and rose._  
  
“How the hell do I know which smell is which?” asked Bokuto incredulously, looking at the fanfiction he was currently reading. In his opinion, it was hot, okay. Majorly so.  
  
“Haa?” asked Konoha from his side, who was munching on chicken nuggets. Onaga was looking at him questioningly.  
  
“I mean, look at this. It says ‘musky, earthy, and something Bokuto recognized as sandalwood and, surprisingly, mint and rose.’ I mean, what the fuck? The fuck is sandalwood? How am I to know what mint and rose smell like? I don’t even know how vanilla smells like! Also, I’ve read somewhere that musk is actually concentrated smell of fart. Why would Akaashi smell like fart? That doesn’t make sense!”  
  
“..what are you reading.”  
  
Bokuto puffed up. “I’m reading about an intimate love story portraying two attractive men bearing the same names with Akaashi and me.”  
  
“..you’re reading gay porn fanfiction, then.”  
  
“..Yes?”  
  
  


* * *

  
**Bokuto** : hey  
  
 **Bokuto:** hey hey   
  
**Bokuto** : hey hey akaashi what if smbdy iamagines a new colro  
  
 **Akaashi:** Bokuto-san it’s 2AM. Please don’t.  
  
 **Akaashi:** Besides, it’s impossible to imagine a new color.  
  
 **Bokuto:** ok but hwat if  
  
 **Bokuto:** what if they imagine a new colr BUT they cnt show it to other peolep  
  
 **Bokuto** : bec it exists only int heir imagination  
  
 **Bokuto:** how wtf amirite  
  
 **Akaashi:** Please go to sleep.  
  
 **Bokuto:** owsl dont slepe  
  
 **Bokuto:** not in the nite they dnt  
  


* * *

  
  
Bokuto cheerfully woke up. If there was a certain group of people on Earth that could cheerfully wake up, then Bokuto Koutarou is part of that group. (Hinata Shouyou, Nishinoya Yuu and Terushima Yuuji all belong in that category too.)  
  
He woke up to the silence of the household and realized that it was too early for everyone, and that he’d have to cook breakfast. That was good. If he cooked breakfast, he can use all the needless energy that he needs to lose. Before that, though, he donned his training attire, grabbed a banana and a bottle of water, and went out for a run.  
  
When he came back to their house, shirt soaked in wet and terribly hungry, his housemates were still asleep. Bokuto wasn’t surprised; he was the only one who was usually awake by this time. So, he took a shower, managed an awesome rendition of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ in the bathroom, and emerged like a new man.  
  
By the time he had the pancake mix poured and the bacon strips sizzling, Daichi had come downstairs and Oikawa was in the bathroom.  
  
“Good morning sunshine!” chirped Bokuto, happily flipping the pancake and checking to see if the bacon was burning. “What a beautiful day today is!”  
  
“What the fuck,” answered Daichi, still half asleep but roused by the smell of Bokuto’s cooking. “Why the fuck are you this cheerful. It’s 7AM and a Sunday.”  
  
Bokuto beamed. “I have no idea as to why I shouldn’t be cheerful today. You know what they say -- the early bird catches the worm!”  
  
“That’s not relevant.”  
  
“Why would the ants hold a revel?” questioned Oikawa, who was absentmindedly drying his hair with a damp towel. “Oh, and bath’s free, Daichi.”  
  
“I said relevant, not a revel ant,” answered Daichi exasperatedly.  
  
“Did you? I see. What’s relevant to what, then?”  
  
Daichi got up from his slumped position to grab a cup of coffee from the pot that just finished its brewing.  
  
“Bokuto quoted “the early bird catches the worm!” which is no way relevant to why he’s disgustingly cheerful this early on the morning.”  
  
“Isn’t it because you’re going to Akaashi’s this afternoon?” clarified Oikawa, settling down on the seat beside Daichi. “Oh, and Kou-chan, I want only blueberry on my pancakes, no bacon, thanks.”  
  
There were dragging footsteps from the hallway, and Kuroo appeared.  
  
“Morning.” Kuroo yawned, raking a hand through his hair. “What’s up mah homies?”  
  
Simultaneously, the three housemates groaned. Bokuto threw a ladle at his best friend.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Bokuto reached the third door on the left, he checked the address Akaashi had given him, and took a deep breath.  
  
 _Steady._  
  
He raised his hand, forming a fist, and knocked raptly on the door three fast knocks, then three slow knocks, then three fast knocks again.  
  
The door opened. Akaashi Keiji, wearing a black sweater and simple jeans, greeted him and Bokuto’s soul all but left his body there and then.  
  
“Hi,” he greeted, a little breathless.  
  
“Hi,” smiled Akaashi. Bokuto figured that he more or less delivered himself as perfectly normal if Akaashi wasn’t looking at him like he lives under a rock or something. “Are you aware that the knock you just did was morse code for help?”  
  
“Yes,” answered Bokuto, because damn it he needs all the help he can have if he’s going to survive a day in close proximity with his crush. And dear god, he’s starting to sound like a teenager again. “I, uh, it’s a thing. I usually do.”  
  
“Is it,” Amused, Akaashi continued smiling. “Well please don’t just stand in there. Come in.”  
  
“Please excuse me.” He took off his shoes and slipped on a pair of house slippers, walking after his host for today. Bokuto looked around and saw the apartment he had come to know after watching too many of Akaashi’s videos.  
  
“Oh, hey, isn’t that the plant that you nearly set on fire when you filmed a video with Tsukishima Kei?”  
  
 _Shit_ , he thought frantically. _Why the heck did I say that fuck fuck fuck. I sound like a stalker._  
  
“Yes. The plant’s name is Conchobar, by the way. Isn’t that the jeans you were wearing last week on your snapchat?” shot back Akaashi.  
  
“Hey, washing machines exist for a reason,” said Bokuto as he tried to defend the jeans he was definitely wearing last week.  
  
Akaashi hid a smile which Bokuto definitely caught. “I know. I know. Well then. Would you like coffee and biscuits first?”  
  
Bokuto nodded, and so he was left alone in Akaashi’s lounge, and by hell did it excite him. There was that television that Akaashi once complained about. There was the door to the room where Akaashi practiced his violin. There was that stained owl rug that Akaashi talked about, one that was slightly similar to the rug Bokuto has in his own room. There was Akaashi’s laptop. There was Akaashi.. Oh.  
  
“I saw familiar stuff from your videos,” explained Bokuto weakly as he put down one of the owl fortune statues. “Where do you usually buy your owl stuff?”  
  
Akaashi dropped down the tray of coffee and biscuits into the table and sat down. “From a website. Want me to send the link to you?”  
  
“Yes please.”  
  
Twenty minutes later, after Bokuto had practically inhaled all the biscuits that Akaashi had produced and Akaashi had gulped three cups of coffee, they stood up. Akaashi led him to his bedroom, smiling benignly at Bokuto.  
  
 _Ooh, scandalous_ , said his inner Kuroo.  
  
There was a camera set-up already by the bed. Bokuto felt his heartbeat quicken at entering Akaashi Keiji’s room. He suppressed the urge to gulp when he Akaashi led him to the bed. _This is the bed he sleeps in_ , he thought.  
  
With Akaashi by his side, their elbows not quite touching, Bokuto caught a whiff of a subtle perfume that he didn’t recognized. His thoughts traveled back to the story he had read and he hoped that Akaashi couldn’t see his blush.  
  
“Alright, camera’s on in 3..2..1..”  
  
Akaashi cleared his throat and smiled at the camera. Bokuto knew he was staring at the person beside him, but he couldn’t lift his eyes away from Akaashi’s Adam’s apple.  
  
“Hello, everyone, thank you for clicking on this video. As you can see, today I’m with..”  
  
“Bokuto Koutarou!” jumped in Bokuto, just in time for his cue. “Hey, hey, hey, everyone!”  
  
Akaashi clasped his hands together. “Well, a lot of you guys seemed to request a video of us together,”  
  
“So we’ve decided to do it,” said Bokuto, nodding.  
  
“I feel like requested isn’t the right word, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi turned to him. “More like, screamed at us?”  
  
“Practically flood us with ‘Do a collab with each other!’?”  
  
They both chuckled and turned back to the camera. Bokuto thought that Akaashi suddenly changed; it was as if he came alive under the glare of the camera’s lens.   
  
“For that, I’ll have to thank you, particularly, if you’ve been one of those people that did that.” Bokuto pointed at the camera and winked. “Because if you hadn’t, I wasn’t sure Akaashi would give in to the pressure and actually accept my request.”  
  
Akaashi blinked. “Bokuto-san, I wouldn’t turn down your request even if I could.”  
  
“Is that so.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
Realizing they were staring at each other for too long, they both jolted a little and faced the camera once more.  
  
“I know a lot of you guys already.. predicted.. that this video together will be happening because of this,” Here, Akaashi gestured with his hands as if he was presenting something nonexistent. Bokuto knew that it would be edited later to show the blurry picture of Bokuto leaning over and wiping Akaashi’s mouth. “which, to clarify, isn’t Bokuto-san leaning over to kiss me as some of you said.”  
  
“I wish,” joked Bokuto.  
  
“It was just Bokuto-san wiping the crumbs,” continued Akaashi firmly.  
  
Bokuto nodded. “Sorry for bursting your bubbles, everyone!”  
  
“So, before we start the collab, I need to ask you a very serious question, Bokuto-san.”  
  
Perplexed, Bokuto questioningly peered at Akaashi.  
  
“Why did you ask to do a video with me?”  
  
“You’re cute,” blurted out Bokuto, and immediately clapped his hand to his mouth. “Oh, shit, uh, I think we should edit that out?”  
  
Akaashi, mouth curling upwards, shook his head. “It’s not a curse word so I won’t.”  
  
“Argh, Akaashi,” whined Bokuto. “If you don’t edit that out they’ll have more reason to ship us. Okay, fine, don’t edit that out. I also asked you to do a collab with me because I find you interesting. ‘Sides, I want to see your owl, Soren, but it looks like he’s not here.”  
  
Akaash quirked an eyebrow. “Soren only comes at night.”  
  
“I know. Should I come at night as well?” asked Bokuto, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
The two men stared at each other before Akaashi sighed.  
  
“Bokuto-san.”  
  
“Kidding, kidding!” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t kidding, but he can’t say that, can he? “But what about you, Akaashi? What made you say yes to my request?”  
  
“I was wondering how you could fit twenty-four marshmallows in your mouth.”  
  
Bokuto looked at Akaashi. “Seriously?”  
  
“Seriously.”  
  
“It was hard. You shouldn’t try it. My cheeks hurt from that time.”  
  
“Ah, I see, I see..” Akaashi nodded thoughtfully. “That satisfied my curiosity.”  
  
“So, Akaashi, I know we haven’t known each other for a long time..”  
  
“Even when you send me existential crisis texts at 11PM?”  
  
“Especially when I send you existential crisis texts at 11PM. So I feel like there are some things I still don’t know about you..”  
  
“And I, you. So what are we going to do today, Bokuto-san?”  
  
“What indeed?”  
  
“We’re going to do the newlyfriend challenge.”  
  
Bokuto beamed. “Oh yeah.”  
  
“This is something that we created out of the blue,” explained Akaashi, now holding some pieces of paper and two pens, with which he handed Bokuto one. “There’s a bunch of categories -- questions -- and we’re gonna write our answers down, and try to guess what the other’s answer is.”  
  
“Okay,” acquiesced Bokuto. “Let’s do it.”  
  
“Are you ready, Bokuto-san?” queried Akaashi, clutching his pen.  
  
Bokuto hummed. “I’m so ready!”  
  
“Alright. We’re starting easy. First off. Favorite food.”  
  
 _OOHHH, I KNOW THIS ONE_ , excitedly thought Bokuto as he wrote down his own favorite food -- _yakiniku_ or grilled meat -- and scribbled Akaashi’s own favorite food.  
  
“I feel like Bokuto-san’s someone who enjoys eating,” commented Akaashi while writing, hiding his own paper.  
  
Bokuto looked at the camera, eyes wide, and mouthed, ‘He knows!’  
  
“Done?” asked Akaashi. “Next one. Childhood fear.”  
  
“Oh.” Bokuto frowned as he looked down on the blank paper. “What if I had, like, a dozen fears? And do you count fears that you have now?”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Just please choose one,” replied Akaashi, looking at Bokuto who was staring at his paper. “If you can’t choose which is your greatest childhood fear, then put two, if you’d like.”  
  
Bokuto grunted noncommittally and jotted down something on his paper. Akaashi was briefly intrigued with the way Bokuto held his pen because it was plain weird. He tore his eyes away from it and promptly shut down the lid on the can of worms that was the fanfiction he read yesterday.  
  
(Of course, that didn’t stop him from picturing the exact scenario of praising the other’s hands as he apparently did in the story.)  
  
“’Kaashi, you done?” Bokuto was smiling at him. It coaxed a smile out of Akaashi, seeing someone whose happiness almost literally radiated from themselves. Bokuto was bright. Bokuto was warm.  
  
“Yeah.” He looked down on the words written on his paper. _Childhood fear of being forgotten by everyone_. “The next question would be.. What would your position be if you weren’t what you are in volleyball?”  
  
“Ouch,” winced Bokuto. “I feel like wing spiker is solely the position I can and meant to play, so this is a tough one.”  
  
“I understand,” agreed Akaashi. “Setting is a different style of art itself. It’s.. delicate yet powerful. I can’t imagine myself playing any other position. Nevertheless, we must answer the question.”  
  
Akaashi pondered for a few seconds before settling on an answer.  
  
“Finished?” Bokuto nodded.  
  
The two proceeded to continue their video, constantly murmuring about what they think they should write. After all the categories had been met, they both turned to each other.  
  
“So. Guessing time!” Akaashi smiled sneakily, clutching his answers to the chest. “First one. Can you guess what my favorite food is?”  
  
“Easy,” answered Bokuto, a smirk painted on his face. “Boiled rapeseed plants with karashi mustard dressing.”  
  
Akaashi blinked. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you watched all my videos, are you?” He shook his head, trying to get over how Bokuto Koutarou knew what specifically what his favorite food is. “I think.. your favorite food would be.. Meat. I don’t know what kind of meat though? Barbecue, I guess?”  
  
“He knows, people, he knows!” exlaimed Bokuto, attention away from Akaashi and to the camera.  
  
“Wait, I was right?”  
  
“Yup!”  
  
Akaashi breathed a sigh. “Wow, that makes us even then?”  
  
“Aw, Akaashi’s going to beat me,” pouted Bokuto.  
  
“That’s not true. Ready for next one? Childhood fear. Bokuto-san. I don’t know much about you so my best guess would be darkness?” hedged Akaashi, hands steepled together as the paper lay on his lap.  
  
Bokuto crossed his arms in an ‘X’ formation and let out an ‘Ernk! Ernk!’ sound, imitating the buzzer of a wrong answer.  
  
“Actually, my greatest fear back then was Doraemon.”  
  
“Doraemon?” Incredulous, Akaashi gestured for Bokuto to be elaborate.  
  
“Yeah. Doraemon was really creepy for me back then, y’know? His pocket is so big that it feels like there are too many horrors hiding inside his pocket.”  
  
Akaashi snickered. “I’ve got Doraemon actually, hold on.”  
  
Bokuto looked utterly horrified. Akaashi made a mental note to zoom in on that when the time for editing the video comes.  
  
Akaashi stood up, opened his wardrobe, took a shirt, and then plopped down again on his bed. He held up the Doraemon shirt for Bokuto to see.  
  
“Here’s the stuff of your nightmares, Bokuto-san.”  
  
“I’m not scared of Doraemon anymore, of course.” Laughing, Bokuto gently grabbed the shirt from Akaashi’s slack hold and made a show of hugging it. “I just used to have these dreams that Doraemon appears in my bedroom and kidnaps me, by putting me inside his pocket and I’ll stay there forever.”  
  
“Sounds exciting.”  
  
“Terrifying, you mean.”  
  
Akaashi smiled.  
  
“Okay. For me, I know what your greatest fear is, Akaashi.”  
  
“Do you really?”  
  
“Mm. You’re afraid of being alone, aren’t you?” questioned Bokuto.  
  
Akaashi continued smiling. “Aren’t we all?”  
  
Bokuto threw his hands up in the air in mock surrender. “Alright, sue me, I just don’t know what else to say. Children are supposed to be scared of darkness and ghosts and being alone. Since you suggested that I was afraid of the dark, I figured you weren’t afraid of it. And I know for certain that you don’t mind ghost stories. So the last option was available.”  
  
That was insightful. Smart, even.  
  
“Ding ding ding! Point goes to Bokuto-san,” declared Akaashi. “That was my childhood fear. It’s why I used to hate playing cops and robbers or hide and seek. They have a hard time finding me.” Akaashi shrugged his shoulders, thinking of the days of crouching between small spaces, counting to a hundred, waiting for someone to find him. They never did. “As for me, I was just there.”  
  
“They weren’t looking hard enough,” was what Bokuto said. Akaashi shrugged again.  
  
“2-1, in favor of Bokuto-san. If I get this right, we’re tied. If I don’t, Bokuto-san wins. Last one. What position would you play in volleyball if you weren’t what you are now? I think, Bokuto-san, that you’d definitely be a middle blocker.”  
  
Bokuto gasped. “How did you know?!”  
  
“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”  
  
“Arrghhh, point to Akaashi! Okay.. Hm.. Akaashi.. Akaashi would be a wing spiker!”  
  
Akaashi showed his paper to the camera, then to Bokuto. Written on it, black against white, were the words _Middle Blocker._  
  
“Noooooo,” wailed Bokuto. “We’re tied. How are we tied. Why did you only make four questions! Akaashi, create another one! I need to win!”  
  
Akaashi grinned. “We’ll pause the competition. Maybe for the next video we’ll continue.”  
  
“Oh, we’ll be making another one? That’s so cool!”  
  
“It was fun, Bokuto-san. You are definitely one of my favorite people now,” teased Akaashi slyly. Bokuto’s eyes widened and he grinned.  
  
“Hmm.” Akaashi turned to the camera. “And that’s it for today everyone. I hope you had a fun time watching,”  
  
“and learned something knew! Like, the fact that I’m one of Akaashi’s favorite people, isn’t that nice?”  
  
“--we’ll see you guys next time. Bokuto-san, thank you very much for joining me on this video. I'm more than happy that you did. Goodnight and goodbye!”  
  


* * *

  
  
Privately, Bokuto didn’t want the day to end, not when it had such been a good day. He wanted to capture time and keep it in a box, to freeze its momentum and reopen the joy he felt today whenever he wanted to. Being with Akaashi is amazing. It felt like there were times that.. Akaashi.. was flirting with him. It was subtle. Or maybe Bokuto was just reading too much into it?  
  
The sky was awash by varying shades of blue and black, hints of the dying orange of the sun speckled on the west corner. The temperature, too, had dropped down, the night giving way to the stingy chill that it held and that Bokuto felt when he had poked his head out of Akaashi’s window.  
  
“Hey, Akaashi, when will Soren drop by?” he asked, munching on a banana that his host had offered earlier. His thoughts were still circling around the fact that Akaashi said he was more than happy to have done a video with Bokuto.  
  
Akaashi twisted from his spot on the table, looking at him with such sleepy eyes that surprised Bokuto. Akaashi.. looked exhausted. His straight back had slumped down as he was staring on his computer, and the slightly cheery expression he had all time while they were filming was replaced by a face that was devoid of joy. It wasn’t expressionless, per se, it just wasn’t.. happy.  
  
It was reminiscent of the Akaashi he had first met, except this was another level. Level up or level down, Bokuto didn’t know.  
  
“Ah, he won’t be here until midnight, I guess.”  
  
Bokuto frowned. Akaashi’s voice was lackluster.  
  
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concern evident on his face. This time, Akaashi didn’t turn around, so Bokuto had no idea what kind of face Akaashi was making.  
  
 _Was Akaashi that tired?_  
  
“Of course I am, Bokuto-san, why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“You seem.. Exhausted,” said Bokuto, words curving around his lips carefully, unfurling the concern bubbling inside of him. “You were sorta chirpy earlier while we were doing the video, but now you seem totally..” _Uninterested_ was what Bokuto wanted to say. “..bummed out.”  
  
The clicking of the mouse ceased. Akaashi turned around.  
  
“We were doing a video earlier. I needed to be entertaining, else, how could people want to watch my videos?”  
  
Frowning, Bokuto opened his mouth to say something, but Akaashi continued. “I apologize if my countenance is surprising to you. Although, I thought you wouldn’t be surprised. You have met me the first time.”  
  
Bokuto closed his mouth. Akaashi was right, he shouldn’t be surprised. And yet..  
  
“But you look totally different now. I.. felt like you were having fun when we first met and when we filmed together. Are you sure you don’t want to rest?”  
  
“I’m not that tired. And as for my different attitude, most times I show what people want to see. It’s easier that way.” His voice was flat, the pressed line of his lips explaining more succinctly what his thoughts on the conversation than what words can. He turned his back around again. “Ah, I’m nearly done, Bokuto-san. Would you like to stay for dinner?”  
  
Bokuto nodded. He belatedly realized that Akaashi had turned around, so he answered a cheerful “Sure!” before looking forlornly at his banana peel.  
  
 _Most times I show what people want to see. It’s easier that way._  
  
Akaashi’s words rang again.  
  
 _Does that mean that he just wanted to show me what I wanted to see? That he wasn’t really happy with doing a video collab with me? Was he really interested in doing one, or did he just do it because he was pressured?_  
  
He snuck a glance at Akaashi’s back, eyes drawn to the slight gap between his hair and shirt.  
  
 _You are definitely one of my favorite people now._  
  
His feelings muddled, his stomach queasy, Bokuto pondered on about the huge possibility that maybe, Akaashi really isn’t interested in him in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reason why I don't do headcanons anymore: I might write other installments of this universe with other pairings, so I don't wanna spoil anything. Yoho.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for staying with me! Special thanks to Zero, my beta for ideas and plots and just a plain amazing friend, and to my mutuals at twitter who kept motivating me by sending me Akaashi pictures. :D 
> 
> Please leave a comment on your way out, if you have time :)
> 
> PS. I do not stan 1D. I was writing it when the conchobar thing exploded on twitter and I was like why not hahahahha


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I AM NOT FURUDATE HARUICHI. Also, I do not own Twitter. Or the various references I like to pepper in my stories.
> 
> A/N: "Oooooh she's alive!" Yes people I am alive. Do not worry. This is a short update. //hides from everyone.

Akaashi woke up to the sound of consistent tapping on the window. He rolled over, muttering a sleepy “go ‘way” before it dawned onto him that he lived in the third floor of a high rise apartment building. It was reminiscent of those horror stories he had marathoned once in his foolish teenage years, except that a) Akaashi isn’t scared and b) He knows why there is a tapping on his window.  
  
It’s late, he realized, when he got up and was greeted by the faint shine of moonlight that entered through the slits of the curtains hanging by the window. The digital alarm clock displayed 12:53. Bare feet padded towards the window and, with a quiet grunt that signified effort on his part, Akaashi opened the window.  
  
A barn owl flew in, accompanied by the gust of wind and the chill of the night.  
  
“’Lo, Soren,” murmured Akaashi as a white faced, brown owl nuzzled his fingers affectionately, settling down on his shoulders. The grip of its talons were tight. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it. Let me just close the window.”  
  
Soren hooted in agreement.  
  
Roused by his nightly companion, Akaashi grabbed his phone and walked to outside to his kitchen. Dazedly, he flicked the light switch open and reflexively squinted his eyes when light flooded in. He opened his fridge and took out uncooked bacon.  
  
“Bacon?” he asked. Soren shrilled.  
  
“Gotcha,” said Akaashi, preparing the pan and the bacon he was about to sizzle at 1AM in the morning. The meat strips were still cool to touch, and the oil needed to warm up. Akaashi quietly did his work. It was the only thing he could give to Soren; unless, of course, he tried to hunt mice for the barn owl at this time of the night.  
  
The oil hissed when it came in contact with the strips of meat.  
  
“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come here for a long time, you now.” He leaned on the counter, eyes carefully trained on the cooking meat. Akaaashi hissed when a spray of the cooking oil hit his finger. “I was getting crazy lonely. There was nobody here to listen to my ramblings. I have loads to tell you.”  
  
Soren ruffled his own feathers, then turned to give him a beady look. Akaashi sighed.  
  
“I know, I know. Have you created a family now? Met an attractive she-owl? Speaking of meeting new people, I’ve met someone.. interesting. His name is Bokuto. Bokuto Koutarou. He has the most ridiculous hair I’ve ever seen in personal, and the most stunning eyes. He has gold eyes, Soren. He.. He reminds me of an owl? A great-horned owl, not a barn one, silly. It’s.. Certainly interesting.”  
  
He flipped the bacon over and let its mouth-watering smell permeate the air. He could feel Soren’s talons dig in deeper, an obvious sign of the bird’s interest in the delicious smell of food.  
  
“You know those videos that I take? Yeah. Made one with him.” His brows furrowed. “His videos are not my cup of tea, but when I watched them, I understood why people like him. Especially more when I actually met the man.”  
  
A hoot.  
  
“It’s not like there’s anything interesting happening in my life, so shush, you, let me talk about this person.” Soren nipped his ear. Akaashi made a mental note to wash it later. Just because he loves Soren doesn’t mean he trusts where his mouth had been. He remembered reading that owls barf up pellets from their mouths, which is like normal vomiting for them. Definitely not a clean beak. “Ouch, let go, let go. The mere hours I spent with him made me feel exhausted. It’s like I was put under too much sunlight. But.. his presence is the kind of presence that pulls everyone around him. He is an open book of emotions, and fun, and.. the opposite of me. Yet he asked to do a video with me, which is something that not a lot of people do. Weird, huh?”  
  
He grabbed a plate from the cupboard, Soren trilling indignantly at the sudden movement but still clutching Akaashi’s shoulders. “Sorry. Before you eat.” Akaashi opened his phone and snapped a picture of him with the barn owl perched on his shoulder. He smiled slightly.  
  
“Bokuto-san asked for a picture of you,” he said in explanation that wasn’t asked. “He has an owl, too, if I remember, although I’m not quite sure what species it was. He was interested in you. Such a shame you didn’t meet him.” His fingers tapped on his smartphone, screen lighting up as he tweeted the photo to Bokuto’s official account. The words “Soren says hi, @bokuhoothoot” were displayed above the picture. Satisfied, he turned off his phone and grabbed the empty plate, putting a few tissues and setting the cooked bacon on top of it.  
  
“Anyway.” Green eyes watched the flutter of wings as Soren left his position in order to devour the bits of meat. “I don’t really know if I’ll have more opportunities to talk to him. I.. wouldn’t blame him if he.. loses interest on someone like me.”  
  
Rinse. Repeat. “I’m just that kind of person, Soren. Boring and uninteresting. Therefore, shouldn’t you be looking for a better friend than me?”  
  
Soren glanced balefully at him, as if saying, ?????  
  
Akaashi sighed.  
  


* * *

  
Sometimes, Bokuto liked to run.

When the air is humid and sticky and plain uncomfortable, when the people in the streets are trying not to press against each other and fail miserably, when the walls feel like they're closing in from every direction, Bokuto liked to don his sportswear and run away. Run, until there is a pleasant burning sensation in his legs, reminding him of his own weakness. Run, until his lungs felt like giving up, reminding him of his own mortality. Run, until he doesn't know where he is anymore, until the sweat has soaked his clothes thoroughly, until he forgets every conflicting emotion and thoughts warring inside himself.

Today had been that sort of day.

He had barely uttered a word in practice, choosing to not speak lest he blurt out the words and insecurities he had been trying to contain within himself. He had seen Kuroo looking at him with concern, had felt Oikawa's imperious gazes, but, like always when he's in this mood, he ignores all of it.

By the time they had wrapped up all their practice plays and had cleaned the gym, Bokuto was already leaving. He waved a hasty goodbye to everyone, excused himself from going home together with Kuroo, and asked Oikawa to handle his bag. He changed into more gym clothes.

And he ran, and ran. Bokuto thought that maybe if he ran, he can leave all his thoughts behind him.

No such luck, apparently, because by the time he was panting for air and nighttime had already crawled through the sky, his thoughts were still circling on the current concern that continue to plague him. The steady heartbeat that he could feel pounding inside of him served as the background music for his less than positive thoughts, reminding him of what he had felt when he was in proximity of Akaashi Keiji.

Bokuto wanted to convince himself that he was overthinking it all. And then he laughed, because Bokuto thinking? More so, in excess? What a silly thought.

..

"Kou-chan," greeted Oikawa, looking up from the mountain of books piled up in their table when Bokuto announced his arrival in a quiet manner. "You look terrible. And you're so late, you could have been mugged, or kidnapped, or _killed,_ dammit it's already twelve Bok--"

"I _feel_ terrible," cut off Bokuto, toweling off his sweaty hair. He appreciated Oikawa's concerns, he really did. "Sorry I had you worried. 'M gonna shower."

Oikawa glared but said nothing, and that was that.

When he entered the dining room, freshly showered and feeling marginally better, there was a steaming cup of hot chocolate placed on an empty spot and Bokuto felt a sudden surge of appreciation for his housemate. No matter how annoying Oikawa can be, there's a reason that he's one of Bokuto's friends.

Oikawa barely looked up from his books, pen carefully writing on a notepad, until Bokuto seated himself on the empty spot facing him.

"Thanks," said Bokuto, gently blowing on the hot mug he was nursing in his hands. He sipped slowly and watched as Oikawa worked. It was one of the things that Bokuto admired -- Oikawa Tooru, managing to juggle college, volleyball, youtube _and_ modeling as well. The level of stress must be hell for him, but Oikawa carries and shoulders it on, like a king carrying the entire kingdom all by himself. A bit too dramatic, but fitting.

"Kuroo and Daichi asleep, I take it?"

"Of course. Also, the food is already cold."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry anyway."

"So?" asked Oikawa after a while, peering at him from the nerdy spectacles he liked to wear. "Are you gonna talk about it or are you just gonna stare at me while I do my work?"

Bokuto sighed and placed his mug far away from him, slumping down on the table and burying his face on his arms. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, the lie tasting horribly on his mouth as it sounded to his ears.

"What happened?"

A pause.

"I don't think Akaashi wants to be friends with me. Anymore. Or no. Were we friends? Does snapchatting and texting each other for only a week and a half count as being friends? Argh, I don't know anymore." Bokuto lifted his head to sip at his drink. The hot chocolate tasted marvelous, yet it did nothing to calm him. "We talked, and I used to send him weird texts and photos and.. thinking about it, what if Akaashi was just too polite to me? I must have been so annoying. Ugh!"

"Does he reply to you when you text him late at night?"

"Yeah.. but.."

"Does he send you text messages first?"

"There was that time.."

"Then that's more than what Akaashi normally does," comments Oikawa, folding his arms on the table and leaning on it. "You see, Akaashi and I have been working together for a few months now, and trust me when I say that he's been more sociable to you than he is to me."

Bokuto frowned. "How could you say that?"

"Kou-chan, I've seen some of your conversations."

"You have?!" yelped Bokuto, horror in his voice. "But I changed my password to something you never would have guessed!"

Oikawa snorted, as if the notion of not being able to guess Bokuto's password somehow offended him. "It's _sowlmates4lyfe_ , but I didn't open your phone or anything. I just happened to look over your shoulder at a fortunate time.."

"What a rat," said Bokuto.

"Ah, how distrustful, Kou-chan. Well. You know what would solve all your worries? Talk. Just. Goddamn it, Kou-chan, it's only been a  _day_ of you moping around and we all can't handle it already. You're worse than a shoujo manga couple. Talk about it. Wanna know why half the shit Orihara Izaya pulls are successful? It's because  _people don't talk to each other clearly._ Get your phone out and give Akaashi a call, or I will."

Trusting Oikawa to pull on his promise, Bokuto gulped his hot chocolate and opened his phone.

His fingers clicked on the contacts and was about to call Akaashi when a notification from Twitter popped up. When Bokuto opened it, he was utterly surprised to see that it was from Akaashi.

"Uh," Bokuto stared at his screen. "Akaashi just sent me a photo of him and his owl."

"See?" The smugness in Oikawa's voice was palpable.

"He's  _beautiful_ , Oikawa."

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Of course he is. Now go, shoo shoo, call your loverboy, I need to study."

Bokuto barely paid any attention to him as he walked out of the dining room and dialed Akaashi's number.

" _Hello."_

"Akaashi, sorry for calling you at this time of the night, I hope you don't mind," Bokuto said, settling down on the couch. "I just saw your tweet. Why are you still up?"

" _Soren woke me up. It's alright. I didn't realize you'd be up too, Bokuto-san._ "

"Ahahah.. I had a midnight run and just got home."

" _Hmm,_ " hummed Akaashi through the phone. Bokuto could hear something being settled down. " _Running out alone at night is dangerous, Bokuto-san."_

Bokuto didn't feel the need to suppress the happiness bubbling inside him, tickling his toes and setting a very warm fire on his stomach. Akaashi's voice sounded smooth and comforting. "Ah, don't worry, don't worry, I know the S.I.N.G."

" _S.I.N.G.?_ "

"Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin! Don't tell me you don't know that?"

" _Am I to presume that that's the pattern of body parts a person is supposed to hit should an attacker decide to make a move on someone?_ "

"That's right. Which is why I feel safe running out at night." Bokuto yawned involuntarily. "Is Soren still there?"

" _He is. Would you like to speak to him?_ "

"That'd be great! Fuku-chan is out and hunting, unfortunately."

Bokuto heard something drop, and this time he realized that it was Akaashi's phone. Distantly, he heard faint phrases such as "good boy, good boy," and then it sounded as if Akaashi had picked his phone again.

" _You're on loudspeaker, Bokuto-san._ "

Immediately, Bokuto let out a low hooting sound, one that he mastered by listening to Fuku-chan.

Seconds passed. A hoot, this time from Akaashi's end, sounded and Bokuto was pleased that Soren answered him.

"Akaashi, did you hear that? Did you? He answered me!" He hooted delightfully once more. "Hi, Soren!"

" _That was impressive, Bokuto-san. Soren had to pause from his meal just to answer you._ "

"It was, wasn't it?!" Bokuto yawned once more.

" _Are you sleepy now?"_

"Nuh uh!" And, of course, another yawn tore from Bokuto.

" _You are, Bokuto-san. Please retire on your bed now and submit to sleep._ "

"Aaah, but I still want to talk to you, Akaashi!" Bokuto whined. "It's still early."

" _Early as in early morning. Go to sleep, Bokuto-san. I'll call you later in the morning if you'd like me to."_

"Really?!" exclaimed Bokuto, the excitement unmasked. "Okay. Goodnight then, Akaashi."

" _Goodnight, Bokuto-san."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. It's very fillery, and I've yet to actually establish romantic intentions between both of them. I feel like I'm prolonging this way too much. Anywaaay.
> 
> In case you hadn't noticed, I made an IWAOI YOUTUBE AU fic, set in the same universe as this. This is now a series. Although, that fic can stand alone. There should be a link on the lower part of the chapter :-) Give it a read if you want! :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, everyone.
> 
> Goodbye! (Abayo! Aa, sayonara da!)
> 
> **Edit as of 3rd May, 2017:** Hey, everyone. So I realized I literally haven't updated this in a year now and I'm really, truthfully sorry about that. I've changed the tags from 'indefinite hiatus' to **permanently discontinued**. Yes, you read that right. I'm sorry for all you hopefuls -- when I wrote this, it was all for fun and giggles, and there was literally no plot or forethought and.. I really don't like it at all. I've grown to dislike it so much that I keep thinking of deleting it, but every now and then I receive a kudo or a kind comment, which prevents me from deleting it from the archive.
> 
> So I'm keeping this posted on the archive, to those who are still in love with this (cringy) fic of mine. If you loved this, then I am glad that you did -- and thank you. Thank you to all those who sincerely enjoyed this.
> 
> To make it up to you guys, I'm thinking of rewriting this fic with quite a few major revisions. Thing is, I like to think that my writing style has changed since 2015 and that's another reason why I can't work on this anymore. The tone, the humor added, the disorganized telling of things -- it's just different from my (self-perceived) writing style. So, _if_ I do re-write this, it'll probably be a more serious, more introspective kind of fic.
> 
> Again, thank you all.


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